my mother's shirt

When my mother died, my sisters and I gave away most of her items to her sisters. Being closest in size to my mother, I kept some of her basic - plain linen shirts and cotton tank tops. ‘Nothing special’ clothes.

 
Clothes are no competition for memories, but on Mother’s Day, I wore a sleeveless linen shirt of hers, tied at the waist, just as she would have done. 

Wearing the shirt, I was reminded that my mother was in fact, fairly demanding of her clothing. As a homemaker, she worked all day - cleaned, cooked, shopped for heavy groceries, did little fixes around the house to keep the home in order. Her clothes had to suit this purpose, but she was also appearance conscious and sought to dress well and feel good about what she wore. She favoured clean boxy lines for ease of movement, breathable fabrics to keep her cool in tropical Singapore, and sturdy machine-washable fabrics for practicality. She loved colour and print and a dash of shine (she wasn’t afraid of glitter and sequins)

She had an eye for quality - raised in a well-off household and schooled in the basics of sewing, she knew what good looked and felt like, and when she was younger she never shopped in stores, she had clothes made for her. She used to show up at school on parent-teacher days looking chic compared to other mums and I felt such pride.

Even when we fell on hard years, she retained a knack for dressing well. When she found a style that suited her, she embraced it and sometimes stocked up. Her clothes looked new even after years of wear. She took laundry seriously and cared for clothing meticulously, making small repairs and alterations when it suited her. After she passed on, I could never get my white clothes to stay as fresh as when she did my laundry (I was very spoilt when I lived with her).

I often joke that my sisters and I inherited our sense of vanity from my mum and her sisters. My mum hated it when we dressed sloppily and loved it when we dressed well. Our idea of bonding was a cliche - we dressed up, went for brunch and then went shopping. The goal wasn’t really to buy things, it was just good fun - we laughed, we posed, we talked about the places we would go. 

Sometimes I go shopping and I see something I think would have looked great on my mum. Or would it? I will never know. She is frozen in time, and we have moved on. 

I love her still. I wear her shirt.