I opened my laptop to images of Chelsea Clinton. The bride wore Vera Wang.
As I paged through wedding photos on the web, all I could think was – when did this happen? How did so much time pass, and where did it go?
As much as I love lingering over designer fashions, I’m miffed over the disappearance of a decade. The last mental picture I have of Chelsea is as a little girl at the White House, a child who bears a striking resemblance to her mother, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. She still looks like Hillary, but she’s no longer a child.
So how did I lose ten years? Why is this crazy-making for me this morning? When did life become such a blur that only the most significant events puncture the membrane that both connects and obscures memory?
Happy events
No, this isn’t an event of global importance. It’s a few minutes to enjoy celebrities in gorgeous gowns, and I’ll be watching for photos of our notables in designer attire, just like others who love fashion and style.
As for the wedding, it hardly stands up to the media splash when Lady Diana wed Prince Charles. I remember that clearly, as we sat glued to our televisions for what we considered a fairy tale in contemporary times.
The reality of that marriage was sad indeed, but in 1981, we were struck by its promise, complete with the trappings we expect of royalty. As a single woman in my twenties, it made an impression, and remains a marker of my own youth.
Fashions of the times?
Fashion sparks memory – at least, that’s the case for me. It’s a realization that is recent, as I’ve been sorting through my closet along with other organizing tasks. And it’s been a bittersweet journey.
I had no idea I’d kept so many clothes, and for so long. There are blouses, skirts, stilettos, boots – the places I purchased them and occasions I wore them remain surprisingly sharp.
Skinny jeans in the bottom of a pile bring me back to age 30. A Calvin Klein skirt in cobalt and black zaps me to thriving career days, and dinners out on business trips to Europe. I can recall an ordinary day that was anything but, shopping in Paris while blissfully in love. There are many dresses, sweaters, and scarves from Paris, and the images they paint are delicious – colorful, specific, seductive.
Touching recollections
So where did the years go? What explains the blur, the black hole, the sense of loss?
Is it really as simple as the serial challenges of marriage, divorce, mothering, working, getting by? Is this everyone’s reality, or just mine?
The circus acts of parental juggling, lion taming, and swallowing fire are so intense that little pierces my psyche except the needs of my children. At least, until I touch these fabrics and they spark wondrous recollections.
Is this the paradox of parenting? That it simultaneously fills and obliterates, for an extended period of time?
Yes, I’m feeling wistful, aware that if not for bits of video, for writing, for pictures – and those clothes in my closet – I wouldn’t be able to grasp much of the past two decades.
So let’s hear it for whatever crystallizes moments of happiness – gorgeous gowns, lavish lingerie, showy shoes. And here’s to all of us who may not wear Wang, but occasionally get to try on the glass slipper.
BLW, the nostalgic tone of this piece really spoke to me. I remember staying up watching Princess Diana’s wedding and making a scrapbook to commemorate it. I was eight years old and thought as a young girl that weddings and marital life was so romantic and of fairy tales.
I like that you kept some your clothes, offering a chance to revisit a part of your life.
Nice reflective piece. I remember Di and Charles’ wedding, and now like you can’t believe Chelsea is married…they all grow up, dont they? I must say she is stunning in that Vera Wang dress!
I was so happy for her, and she looked beautiful. Good for her! I just stumbled across your blog. I love it! I’m going to poke around, I promise to put everything back where I found it!
Welcome, Kate. Stumble away and have fun! (She did look beautiful, didn’t she?)
It’s fantastic the way that inaniminate objects have the magic to evoke memories…
BLW, I think that’s why I keep procrastinating the spring cleaning of my closet. They’re not just clothes that no longer fit or are taking up space or are out of style, they speak to me about a time and place, a longing, and a memory that’s distant yet remarkable. I sometimes remember the place and time I wore certain outfits, or why I purchased certain items. And to get rid of them even if I no longer wear them is like discarding that part of my life because I don’t trust that I will always remember them without the help of these relics from my past.
Yes, I do recall the fairy-tale wedding of Charles and Diana. My entire family was glued to the TV. Weddings always tug at my heartstrings a certain way – the dress, the promise, the vows, the happiness. Even if they don’t all end well, just like my own, and even if I’m a little jaded now from my own experience, there’s nothing quite like seeing a woman in her gown in the arms of the man she loves on her wedding day. It truly makes me want to believe. For them. And for me.
I eagerly looked at all the Chelsea wedding photos too. This incredulous feeling of “where did the years go to?!” strikes me often with my brother and sister, my nephew, my friends’ children. I knew them all as babies, and they have grown so fast!
This “getting by” is what I’m so afraid of. I don’t want to have some mid-life crisis realization that I let the years pass me by uneventfully. But it seems so much in society is structured to make it this way. Careers, credit cards, bigger houses, newer cars… it’s hard to get ahead.
Eva – I think children do a lot to blur the years, frankly. As much as we adore them (and can’t imagine life without them), the round-the-clock demands create that strange sense of time going quickly and dragging. I couldn’t agree more about the structure of our society – the pace at which we are expected to move from college to career to the next big(ger) thing, rather than slowing down even periodically, to enjoy where we are and what we have.
Wait until you see your sons stand in front of you with their brides. Now, THERE’S a brain slap for “where did the years go.” And don’t get me started on what it feels like when you see your child with a child of their own for the first time!
Beyond my ability to imagine right now! (Pass the tranquilizers…)
Weddings are tricky things, half fairy-tale performances and half real celebration (this, in the best of scenarios). The fairy tale is lovely — but something about it also creates an enormous amount of pressure for those participating. The world wants the fairy tale (or so it’s easy to believe, following weddings like these), so it’s hard not to fall prey to the idea that you must deliver or risk disappointing.
What interesting commentary, CT. Yes, “deliver or risk disappointing.” It is a lot of pressure.
While I don’t pay attention to designers, I do pay attention to fabric and to texture and to time and the way it embeds itself in our totems and our touchstones. All this impermanence is a bit melancholic, and at the same time I felt woven into these nodal memories by your post and thus connected in thinking about where I’d been during these various points in time (i.e. in LA when Di married, only half interested in pomp while testing the waters for my own future… living in LA when she died… myself married with kids and now horrified by the tragedy).
As we age, the years do become “blurs.” When i think of my siblings, I think of them at the last age they were when I lived at home. Thus, my 9-year-old sister is eternally 6, and the younger siblings are eternally 4- and 5-years old. When I see them, I am amazed. How did they grow so much and so fast? And then I realize that they didn’t grow up so fast, my life has just sped up. I don’t think I am sad for this speed because I believe it marks adulthood. The speediness of life as we embark upon the adventures that lay before us.
It’s true; I remember being here on Martha’s Vineyard on vacation when my kids were babies and seeing Chelsea on the street at 13. And I’m embarrassed to admit I got up early that long ago morning to watch the royal wedding LIVE. Sad. I can finally look at my own wedding photos and not be sad it didn’t last. How come I don’t feel so old??
Lovely post!