An Essential

At the risk of being controversial, may I merely state I believe once upon a time the “Little Black Dress,” was indispensable to every female inhabiting the amazing world of NYC.

I must also add that despite not having lived in the Empire State for many a moon, I will ever consider myself “A New Yorker.”

I recall my very first Christmas bonus went to find that coveted item (hopefully on sale) in Bonwit’s. Of course, I found it and not on sale, but it became my “go to” choice for the next five years. I treasured that lovely dress until it literally fell apart decades later.

In the years before marriage and domesticity, owning a “little black dress,” was vital. Decades later, even as time and life moved forward, it was replaced often.

However, successors to the original only varied in size and price. The essential garment and the confidence it inspired never really changed. The basic design had neither ruffles nor buttons or pleats. It came in ebony silk, rayon, linen and more recently polyester.

I thought about this yesterday when acting on advice from a NYT oped contributor, I decided to unload some aging garments from an overcrowded closet.

Reluctantly, I admit I now own more than one version of the “Little Black Dress.”.

Essentially because I treasured each one I owned, I rarely disposed of any, and they now number.....????????

Well, no need to divulge all my secrets. Let me just admit I own more than one.

As they lay limply side by side on my pale blue duvet, seemingly they also record other changes in my life. Not only due to the fluctuating Sizes, but also the different lengths.

I remember a season when the “Little Black Dress,” was not so little, but ankle length.

Quite suddenly, the fashion edict changed. The following season, the length of the garment de rigeur became mid calf. Ah yes, I do still have both.

However, today there was indeed a sad moment. I had to admit I no longer need my favorite garment; a silken armor that always provided confidence that I could cope with the world and its inhabitants. Once the sleek jet black sheath was donned, I was no longer a shy introvert, but became a confident female.

Sadly now, while my closet has a version for any event, they are no longer in vogue. Admittedly, I have aged, but youth has never been a prerquisite for owning and wearing “The Little Black Dress,.”

I wonder if it is a mixture of fear, political differences, or a growing reality that nothing is forever, that has abruptly caused women to relinquish the intense drama of raven and yearn for the brighter hues of sun, flowers and hope. Can we blame possibly Covid for this abrupt rupture in the philosophy of a well dressed woman?

Of course, I admire all the women who folded their Little Black Dresses and gifted them to a good cause, but I cannot yet part with mine.

Possibly, I will keep one, or maybe two, and wear them occasionally with a bright scarf as a talisman while remembering the music of yesterday.

Indeed it was a lovely season of life and not to be forgotten.