After calling my dad to wish him a Happy Father's day I reflected on some of the memorable moments that we've had around my clothes.
Like, I'll never forget the morning he walked me to my bus stop and then got on the bus with me. I was in the 2nd grade and 8 years old. The afternoon before when I had come home from school I told him that a 3rd grader was making kissy sounds and comments about how nice my legs were. We were required to wear short plaid skirts at the private school that I attended. The next morning my 6 ft. '2 father hunched down and walked straight to the back of the bus and gave Mr. Jeffery a lecture about respect. Everyone giggled while a puny Jeffery turned red and never spoke to me again.
Another memory that I have is when my dad took me training bra shopping the week that I entered the 6th grade. I was mortified. Plus I really did not need a bra yet. Luck for me, when we got to the upscale department store, Rogers, my dad disappeared into the mens' section while I shopped with a sales girl to pick three extra small pink pastel trainers.
I could go on and on with these stories about fashion, me, and Herbert but I'll stop and say Happy (belated) Fathers' Day! I'm sure there's a better moral, but I'll just say if you have a daughter use fashion as an outlet to bond. Girls like their clothes:).
