Tag Archive | yr37

Fashion in Addergoole After the Apocalypse, a series of Vignettes

Just before Year 18

The stores hadn’t gotten any new stock in months, but they were struggling, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong, hoping – like everyone was – that this would blow over soon, that things would go back to normal.

They’d pulled all of last year’s stock, anything they had in their warehouses and back rooms, in a sad attempt to keep things normal.

“Mom, I can’t go to school in last year’s clothes. Everyone’s going to laugh at me.”

“No, they’re not.” Laurelia’s mother was amazingly unsympathetic. “Because the world is ending everywhere, Laurelia, not just here.”

“But these clothes are so… ugh.” She plucked at the tunic-shirt distastefully. The end of the world was being very irritating.

“Then I suggest you learn to sew.”

Just before Year 27
Every piece of clothing Garden owned had been patched at least once. Every piece of clothing everyone she knew owned had been patched at least once. After a while, they’d given up on making clothes look new and had settled for being warm.

Except holiday clothes. Garden still had a skirt where you couldn’t see how they’d altered it and a nice soft sweater where they’d made the darns decorative.

The week before she was supposed to go to Addergoole, her mother pulled out a box Garden had never seen before. “I saved these.” The clothing was soft, clean – new – and smelled of cedar chips and lavender. “It’s not enough for the whole year, but it will get you started. And it looks like I got the size about right.”

Just before Year 37
Moretta’s mother was the seamstress for their town, which gave her a bit of an advantage. Her mother had tried out most of her ideas – how to take three pairs of ruined pants and make one nice pair, how to turn an old, ripped blanket into a jacket, how to make a dress from whatever you had leftover from other projects – using Moretta as a mobile dummy and advertising placard.

In return, Moretta had clothes to pack for Addergoole that looked like clothes. Her mother had dug into an old stash of fabric and spent some time looking at old fashion magazines, and then spent three months sewing. “They’re going to be coming from all over the country. Except Ediana, who you know, and Gerald. But most of them will be strangers. Their people will have different fashions. Remember that. There is no ‘voice of fashion’ anymore. And in Addergoole… well, there will be bigger problems.”

Moretta, who had been born four years after the world ended, didn’t know what her mother was talking about. But she knew that she had clothing that looked good on her, and felt nice, and kept her warm.

Just before Year 47
“All right. Two nice dresses, five pairs of pants, and three skirts. Nobody at school will be as well-dressed as you are.”

Naia’s mother wasn’t by any means an accomplished seamstress, but she was a very good cobbler and leather-worker, and her sister, Naia’s Aunt Prima, owned the burgeoning textile mill that employed most of the town. Naia knew she was lucky to be as well-dressed – and certainly well-shod – as she was.

She stroked the skirt carefully. “It’s all very nice.”

“But you’re thinking about the girls from New Detroit, aren’t you? With the fancy trim and the strange cuts on everything?”

“And the ones from the South.” Since her mother had said it, she could admit it. “With those pants.”

“You won’t be out of fashion in Addergoole. But, just in case…” Her mother folded a dress in the New Detroit style into the trunk.

Thanks to @inventrix for the names and for brainstorming with me on the fashion.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/501603.html. You can comment here or there.


For natalief‘s prompt.

After Generations, and on LJ, written for this Call as well.

Chandra had never been quite certain about her grandmother’s misapprehensions about her mother, but she had been content to leave things as they were, for fear of rocking a boat that had been sailing uncomfortably for longer than she’d been alive.

It wasn’t until her daughter [daughter] was ready to go to Addergoole, along with her half-brother and her uncle, and her mother was back home, disconsolate and miserable after another relationship had gone to hell, that Chandra decided she needed to intervene. For one, she’d realized that her mother and grandmother’s relationship was barely older than her. For another, now in her thirties, the under-two-decades between her and Megan didn’t seem like such a wide gap.

She cornered Grandma Shira first, while Mom was out in the Village shopping, uselessly.

“We need to talk about Mom.”

“She’ll be done flighting around in a week or two and settle down, once Marco is in school,” Shira answered her tiredly, “and we can get back to life as usual.” She set her head against the window tiredly. “My other kids turned out all right.”

Chandra sighed. “Your other kids weren’t abused, Grandma. I did okay in Addergoole, and Carrig had me watching out for him, and our kids will have each other. But nobody knew about any of this back then, did they?”

“Megan never said anything…” Shira murmured.

“You know better. They still call your cy’ree the support group. You know why Kept who aren’t happy don’t say anything,” Chandra pressed. It wasn’t the same reason she hadn’t said anything when mom had gotten out of line, but it had its similarities.

Something in her voice had gotten her grandmother’s attention. “There’s something you’re not saying, isn’t there? Something else. Not just Shadrach the monster, may he rot.”

“Not just my father, no.” She emphasized “my,” and watched her grandmother’s eyes narrow in understanding.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/171953.html. You can comment here or there.