Fashion of a working-class family
Walking by the tailor’s window shown in this photo, I was struck by the mannequin’s resemblance to my mother, from snapshots taken before I was born. Among all the flash-frozen fuzziness for which Polaroid cameras were famous, was a record of my family’s belief in the power of timeless fashion design.
Working-class families, where I come from, make sure that every member has at least one meticulously tailored piece of clothing. So important was the commitment that photographic chronicles were almost as important as the immediate statement made by the wearer’s singular piece of wardrobe.
In particular, as I passed by the mannequin, was the attention demanded by the razor sharp line of the scoop neck. Visceral elegance. The purity of a family with calloused hands that wears beautifully pressed house coats, tithes everything they earn, fistfights for scraps, and flaunts rose tattoos, was captured in the crafting of a single line.
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