Going downtown with Mommy

If you asked me to conjure a special memory of my mother at home, I'd be hard-pressed to come up with one. Certainly, there are no memories of her in the kitchen like the ones so many daughters cherish. Given time, I am sure I could recall some remembrances from somewhere inside the house, but what leaps to my mind are the times we spent elsewhere. Anywhere else. If local, in downtown Philadelphia.

Some of my earliest memories are sitting beside her on rides through pitch-black subway tunnels on trains that in the darkness seemed to fly through the air. A dead giveaway that they didn't? The blue sparks flying off the tracks and the screeching of the metal wheels. They never scared me because Mommy was in the seat beside me.

Most outings within Philadelphia were shopping trips that included lunch at Wanamakers. Like many local kids my age, I remember going to the tearoom at Wanamaker's Department Store. My mother always asked for Little Nellie's station and I ordered tea sandwiches (no egg - I was allergic), chocolate milk and chocolate-mint ice cream. It would be my choice today if the restaurant were still open. Well, maybe I'd skip the chocolate milk.

Although I remember many shopping trips, I got to, or perhaps had to, shop two days a year. One in the fall for school clothes. One in the spring for summer clothes. Get what you wanted then or you wouldn't be getting it. With two exceptions (unless she happened onto something she thought you should want which happened fairly frequently):  a Christmas dress and an Easter outfit. And for many years, an Easter bonnet.

Easter was really the height of the fashion season in our house. If I had to guess, I would estimate that 40% of all photos in my childhood were taken at Easter. Easter eggs were great but the day was all about new clothes. Dresses, coats, shoes, handbags and hats. Most importantly hats. My mother loved hats. Luckily, she needed one for every Sunday at church.

My sister liked to tell a story about shopping with my mother in the fifties. Think average costs. Houses around $10K. Cars $2K - $4K. This story involved a hat. I remember the hat involved. A brown satin cloche with jewels on one side. She wore it a lot. Good thing.

In those days, women could not have their own credit cards, but my father had provided my mother with "charga-plates" for all the Philadelphia stores. I think this story might have involved Blum's. I always picture my mother and sister stepping out onto Chestnut Street on a cold winter night. My mother clutches her hatbox in her hand.  Let me mention at this point that hats were not returnable.

     Mother to my sister Rosemary: Did you happen to notice how much that cost?

     My sister, being her daughter, had not.

     The answer: $55. One percent of a house, but only if you rounded up. 

Did I mention I got my financial sense from my mother?

Shoes were also big in our world. Even though my father believed that no one should wear cheap shoes, I swear I saw my mother, when asked the price of a pair of shoes, hold up one shoe and give the cost--of one shoe. 

Even I got annoyed with her when it came time to buy shoes to go with my prom dress. Everyone was getting shoes dyed at Beck's or Dial's where they cost $2.98. My dress was cream-colored so, according to my mother, I had to have the perfect tone silk shoes to match. $38 then. Roughly $317 today. Even I found that extravagant--although because she is the one who brought me up I no longer do. In her defense, my feet did not hurt.

Few people knew that before there was a Saks Fifth Avenue in suburban Philadelphia there was a small store tucked in the corner of Center City Gimbel's store. My mother did. One Easter she gave me a shopping experience there that harkened back to the 1940s. I recall standing on a platform in a designer coat while saleswomen--more than one--fetched accessories. I ended up with a wool dress to match the coat, a crepe dress to match the coat lining, shoes, a handbag, gloves and even the right tone pantyhose. Or maybe stockings. It was a long time ago. Shortly thereafter the sixties started. I am glad I had that experience before it was too late. I am sure that kind of shopping experience is still available, but not in my current world.

My mother was all about getting me out--of the house or of our town. She wanted me to have many varied experiences. I think, maybe, so she could have them too. I am grateful she took me along.