Slice of Life Post for March 25, 2025, (5:48 to 6:19) by Barb Edler

Last night I attended an AAUW meeting that followed with a program about historic women from Keokuk at 6:00 p.m. to celebrate Women’s History Month. Angela Gates, the Keokuk Public Library’s historical librarian, shared many details about various women throughout history who have made a definite mark such as Elsa Maxwell, famous for creating the scavenger hunt, Lucia Alexander, a former slave, who lived to be 127 years old, and several writers such as Mary Huiskamp Calhoun Wilkins who is known for the Katie John children book series.

One refrain Angela mentioned was how many of these women were able to pull up their “bloomers” throughout hardships like a husband who disappeared, racism, and becoming a doctor raising a dozen children and disabled husband. The “bloomers” mentioned had me going down a “fashion” rabbit hole and reminding me of a time in my life when crushed velour was popular, leading to the following memory:

“Look at those pants,” someone on the early morning bus exclaimed as I walked down the aisle looking for an empty seat. I loved hearing the comment and I loved wearing my purple crushed velour bell bottom pants with white piping that swooped around the knees. My sister had bought her own pair earlier that summer and she generously bought me my own pair. I clearly remember her driving me to the downtown Armstrong Department store in Cedar Rapids. To this day, I wonder at her generosity, but it could be that she knew if she did not get me my own pair of pants, I’d always be stealing them from her.

My older sister Pam was stylish, and I tried to borrow her clothes often. She did not approve and would angrily reprimand me; she was five years older and a lot smarter. When she hung up her clothes, they were all ordered in a particular way. Hence, she knew when I helped myself to her amazing wardrobe. I remember she had white go-go boots and red-hot pants with a matching vest, also crushed velour. One Christmas she gifted me some of her clothes. One of the items was a pair of black bib overalls covered in white daisies. Simply gorgeous. She also wore guitar straps as belts which I thought was the best fashion statement of all time.

In my late teens, I remember loving sundresses and cut-off shorts with of course the ubiquitous t-shirt or halter top. The great thing about my younger years was that I was quite slim. I probably could have looked good in most anything, but I don’t really remember standing out. I think I was too insecure. My hair has always been fine and incredibly straight which sometimes made covering my large protruding ears difficult to cover. 

Going braless for me was never a big deal in my opinion because I was never busty. In sixth grade, I was in the bathroom changing for P.E. when one of the girls asked me when I was going to buy a bra. I was wearing a white t-shirt at the time. Hmmmmm. A bra? I’d never even considered it, but that question had me motivated to buy one. Back then you could buy a 28 triple A sized  bra for one dollar. I decided to walk over to the Kresge’s  store at Lindale Plaza to buy one. In reality I probably needed a little support, but I definitely could not fill out a bra well. 

Once when I was wearing my bra, I decided to tuck a dollar bill into the cleavage. Yep, that dollar bill completely disappeared. I never tried that trick again because losing a dollar bill back then was like losing a 50 dollar bill now. 

I also remember how mortifying my flat chest was as a junior high school student. At that time there was a doll that became a brief hit with children called the Flatsy. I can remember some boys taunting me with a sing song chant from the flatsy commercials. “Flatsy! Flatsy! She’s flat and that’s that.” Wow, what an ego buster. Boobs are a thing.

Today my fashion sense leans towards completely comfortable, and I don’t go braless!

I Saw Your Ghost on Facebook Today (Spoken Word Poem)
 
“Be quiet! I’m trying to read the Bible,” you screamed
trying to silence our constant bickering
your newfound faith had you
wearing an AGAPE cape
burning your albums and
constantly praying─
you, who used to wear red hot pants and white Gogo boots,
a guitar strap for a belt,
who once got kicked out of a high school band concert for wearing bloomers
our Great Aunt Grace shipped all the way from
Long Beach, California.
 
you were my awesome older sister
who introduced me to the fantastic flavors
of fast food like sanchos at Taco Kid
food I never even knew existed—
who took me all the way downtown
to Armstrong’s Department Store
to buy me my own pair of crushed velour bell bottom pants,
purple with white piping,
just like yours—
who gave me her own black bib overalls
covered in sweet white daisies.
 
You were the coolest fashion statement maker
until you found the light
loved the Lord
and him.
Jeff, I remember,
Jeff was his name.

Did you know that one night our father 
gathered all of us into the kitchen
to break the news that you tried to end your life−
silent and stunned, we couldn’t believe
you’d turn on yourself because of a lover’s break.
 
I saw your ghost on Facebook today
bronzed and beautiful, lying on a Puerto Rican beach,
it’s really your daughter,
a gypsy at heart−
she’s everything you wanted to be
fiercely independent, gorgeous, and free.