I have some of both of my parents artwork. They met in advertising design. And had other art classes together.
I have my mom’s pastels that I used to use as a kid. And a palette knife of my moms. My mom and dad bestowed on me a love for art, that helped my career (cartography). For my wife and my anniversary gift to each other, we would by some piece of art. But that became overwhelming. No room for it. Married 27 years.
90% of what we have on our walls is either from friends, family, or what we bought for our anniversary. Every piece has a meaning of it’s own.
It was a hand-me-down from someone, somewhere. A simple soft jersey sun dress in a sort of hospital-scrubs shade of green. I must have been about five when I got it. I remember sitting on the bed, sorting through a box or bag of clothes, and falling instantly in love with it. It was a little too big, so my mom tried to tell me I couldn’t have it, but I was ready to throw down over that one. I won that particular fight and wore that dress as much as I possibly could.
The following summer, I was excited to pull the green dress out because, since it was too big the first year, it would surely fit me perfectly. Nope. It was too small.
It was still mine, though, and it meant a lot to me. I didn’t really care about most of my clothes, but I was very much not cool with the idea of that dress being passed down to my sisters (they didn’t want it anyway) or thrown away. So it lived in my closet for many, many years. I wonder if my mom still has it somewhere.
You remind me of my purple dress. I yearned to have a purple dress, after reading a Disney Cinderella picture book in which one of the ugly stepsisters wore one. One of my grandmother’s friends had a teenage daughter who donated a castoff purple dress she had outgrown…and it was velvet! Obviously it fit me in no way, but that didn’t stop me from wearing it around the house for a couple of years.
