It was cold in the 50s on our farm. It was cold in the one room country school I attended. It was cold everywhere. My Dad insisted that we wear long underwear like the suit to the left. A view of the rear side would reveal the trapdoor. Underwear wasn't designed with fashion in mind and as a kid, I hated the long johns. Bulky, wrinkled and poorly fitted. I didn't worry about the temperature, I just thought it was a terrible imposition to be bundled up in something so awful. Fortunately, my underwear was white, not red. The true irony is my daughter loves long johns in winter. I have to point out to her, they've come a long way, baby.
Another haute couture prairie staple was the felt boot. This is as close to the real thing as I could find. The felt part is a little too streamlined and should be darker gray; the rubber covering should be less stylish and more like the shortened version of a red and black rubber boot. Oh, it hurt my spoiled little heart each time I had to don the felt boots. They were ugly but they were warm, too. I don't remember cold feet. I just remember thinking how unsightly they were.
the traumas of my childhood. You can tell, that if your worst memories of youth are having to wear ugly clothes, you had a great childhood. I did. We were poor and isolated on the farm but my brother and I agreed we were happy. Priceless.
I've been married a long time and often write about everyday events.