“Hand-me-downs” were a vital part of every kid’s wardrobe during the depression. Though Annie and John were several years older, I wore their hand-me-downs, which had probably passed through other children before they got back to me. Kids only had to look at an older sibling to see what was in their wardrobe future. With any good luck, a kid got an occasional new item worked in now and then. For a program at school, or if Mama managed to save up matching feed sacks around Christmas or a birthday there might be a new outfit. Whenever someone handed down items that didn’t fit, Mama ripped them up and remade them for one of us, often turning the faded side in. I expected to wear family hand-me-downs. That was just life, but was outraged when the preacher’s wife passed some of her daughter’s clothes to me. I didn’t want her old castoffs. I was proud and considered it charity, thinking she’d look down on me. My proud attitude did not matter. I wore them anyway.
The Elam family lived nearby, excellent neighbors, though recently descended to Cuthand Creek from the Ozarks. They were good folks, but still didn’t quite make the cut with the local sophisticates, sometimes suffering some embarrassment. Their teenage daughters, Medrith and Meredith Elam (fetching young ladies) didn’t share my aversion to hand-me-downs. One Sunday they showed up in evening wear of a style never before seen in the Cuthand Methodist Church. I breathlessly followed their progress as they took their places in the choir, wearing eye-popping dresses that that clearly seen earlier incarnations as evening attire. Their low-backed, clinging, peek-a-boo confections of silk, sateen, and sheer lace were complemented with long, over-the-elbow gloves, gaudy costume jewelry, and feathered hats! All they lacked were rhinestone-studded cigarette holders to exemplify 1930’s movie star glamour.
Some old busybody must have made a snide comment about their appearance since they never dressed so stylishly again – a great disappointment to me.
nutsrok.wordpress.com 
Growing up with 3 older brothers, I wore their hand-me-downs and I loved em. I especially loved the shirts and jeans. In old family photos, you’ll see older brother with a particular T-shirt on, and then, a couple photo years later, there I am in the same shirt.
LikeLike
I loved those old T-shirts. Nothing feels better. We should all shop at thrift stores
LikeLike
Hm…isn’t it sad how we enpower others with so much POWER over what we feel…The Elam sisters probably felt “Quite sophisticated” until they were “told otherwise”…..Hm….
LikeLike
And you know they probably were really pretty, too.
LikeLike