Drabble #7

Lots of dresses don’t remember being made, but I do. I don’t know if it’s because it took her so long, or if it was because she was thinking so hard about me, but I remember everything. I remember the first shock of the scissors and the needle melding the thread into me and the heavy wet heat of the iron—everything. I remember how vague I felt when my seams were all still unfinished, before I was hemmed, or had buttons. But I wish I could remember the first minute when I knew I was going to be a dress.

Comments

[Thoughts on Life and Millinery.]

That is the sweetest yet. Simply lovely.

[nadine]

How do you it do it, Erin? That is just gorgeous writing.

[Anonymous]

Eponymous!

[Kate]

Am wild about your imagination! Never stop, please. K Q:-)

[Anonymous]

Identity follows form, at least in dresses!

[Tracy]

Someone did a REALLY nice job of matching the print in the center front of the bodice, and balancing out the flower layout of the skirt. Brava!

[La BellaDonna]

It's well-written, as everything Erin writes, but "eponymous" isn't what leaps to mind. It's not as if the dress were named "Erin."

[Anonymous]

Dear Dress,In an alternate universe, I made you to wear to work, but discovered that you were too much fun for the office. After that, you were saved for Saturday Shopping Days with the girls--paired with my favorite lime green pumps and matching clutch purse. I remember one morning, Amy picked me up for our shopping day and I was wearing another dress. I figured my friends were tired of seeing the same frock. Amy made me go back inside to change. You were so happy! And, really, so was I. XOXO,Lydia

[Rose]

Love this one! The dress, and the post. Wonderful!