Greg Webb
Weatherford Democrat
WEATHERFORD — Larry Jones, Democrat Columnist
When I was a youngster, I learned by looking at my Aunt Flossie’s National Geographic magazines that natives who lived in tropical and sub-tropical climates don’t need to wear as many clothes as was required here in the temperate climes of the “Bible Belt.” That was a real “eye-opener” for an ignorant and naïve farm kid.
Clothing, since earliest times, has served many purposes, though the original intent was obviously to protect our semi-hairless bodies from the environmental elements — cold weather, sunburn, thorny brush and other hazards. Over eons of time, as mankind claimed dominion over all climates, the clothes have evolved to serve purposes other than protection. Modesty, vanity, religious expression, and even utility have been addressed by body coverings. Where would we be today without pockets on our clothes? The fact that women’s clothing, for the most part, is without pockets is the greatest single factor holding them hostage to unequal opportunity.
It is with a wide range of emotion that I reflect on the clothing I have both worn and witnessed during my lifetime. As a youngster, clothes were never much of an issue. My mother exercised total control of my wardrobe from buying bluejeans or overalls at J.C. Penny’s, making shirts from feed or flour sacks, and laundering them in a cast iron wash pot over an open fire. She would make our shirts on her old treadle Singer sewing machine from the normally bright and/or flowery cotton print material. When we went to the feed store to buy barley chops or chicken scratch, a primary consideration was not what the feed consisted of, but what the sack looked like. Many of the quilts my mother made were sewn from this feed sack material.
My first great concern over what fabric my clothing was made from came about during the mid-1950s with the introduction of the “new and wonderful” crinkled nylon material. My mother made many shirts for my brother and me from this revolutionary new fabric that required no ironing. For those of you spared this atrocity, the only thing that could equate to it is wearing a garbage bag. It was stiff, non-absorbent and did not “breathe.” It served as a forerunner to other atrocities that lay ahead.
Another fad of this nylon era was girls wearing the huge can-can slips. The only rationale I can see with their introduction was to keep boys at arms length, though they posed quite a modesty issue when the girl tried to sit down.
Over the decades to follow, we saw the introduction of quite an assortment of new fabrics and a variety of fashion statements. How we survived the polyester era is a miracle. Though not as offensive as the crinkled nylon fad, it shared many of the same evils. It too was similar to wearing a garbage bag, but I smoked during those days, and I kept enough pinholes burned in my clothes to allow the material to breathe.
Thankfully, what goes around comes around, and today I can again enjoy the 100 percent cotton feel. Everyone else can be thankful that Al Gore’s global warming probably won’t get here quick enough for me to adopt the “National Geographic look.”
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Larry M. Jones is a retired Navy Commander and aviator who raises cattle and hay in the Brock/Lazy Bend part of Parker County. Comments may be directed to nowhearthis@pwhome.com.
