About this blog

This is a window into the weird world of Anglicanism, as experienced on a Cathedral Close. Has anything much happened since Trollope's Barchester Chronicles? You will still see the 'canon in residence' hurrying across to choral Evensong, robes flapping, as the late bell chimes. But look carefully and you will notice he is checking the football score on his iPhone as he runs. This is also a writer's blog. It charts the agony and ecstasy of the novelist's life. And it's a fighter's blog. It charts the agony and ecstasy of the judo mat. Well, the agony, anyway.

Friday 10 February 2012

DAY 41--Clothes Parcels

When I was growing up, there were few thrills to match the arrival of a large parcel of hand-me-downs from cousins, or from friends of my mother who had older girls.  (We didn't have a telly.)  Once we were sent a batch of clothes from a Canadian girl called Jane.  Clothes from abroad!  I remember a party frock, a pale pink gauze shift with long sleeves and ruffles down the  front and at the cuffs.  I adored it (although it was scratchy).  And that brown fake fur coat, with a belt and shiny plastic brown leather on the outside!  How I loved wearing that (although it creaked when I moved).  These were clothes which nobody else in the village had.  Jane from Canada, if you are reading this, THANK YOU.  You have no idea how impossibly glamorous your cast-offs were to us, back in 1970, in Pitstone, Buckinghamshire. 

Do people still send clothes parcels?  Maybe your church or favourite charity collects clothes to send to impoverished communities in Africa.  But to send them to your peers smacks of charity in the Victorian sense.  The kind of charity that the deserving poor were too proud to accept.  It was always the poor relations who are in receipt of clothes parcels.  Or the poor settlers in the Laura Ingalls Wilder books.  Remember how the pastor gave Laura a little fur cape and muff one Christmas which some rich little girl back in the East had grown out of?  And how it was prettier than Nellie Olsen's fur cape?  Three cheers, because she was a right cow, that Nellie Olsen.

The obvious exception here is maternity clothes.  We hand these on because we are so heartily sick of them after the last 6 months of pregnancy that we never wish to see them again.  Pregnant women accept them because they resent having to shell out for a new wardrobe they will only need while pregnant.  The other exception is baby clothes.  Which first time mum has not been in receipt of a bin liner full of clapped-out babygrows from some harassed but well-meaning mother-of-three?  The first-timer is inclined to turn up her nose.  Only the very best, the very newest and cutest of teeny-tiny clothes for her newborn, she thinks.  This is because the phenomenon of the Exploding Nappy of Doom has yet to impinge upon her consciousness.

But we don't send one another parcels of ordinary clothes.  We give the clothes to the charity shop, for fear that a parcel might appear insulting in some way.  It might look like a criticism of the friend's dress sense, or worse, she might think you're saying 'Hey, I've lost loads of weight! Want my old clothes, fatty?'

The reason I'm discussing this today is because earlier this week I sent a friend a pair of black boots.  (The student of this blog will be aware that I am hardly bootless as a result.)  They arrived this morning and she's delighted with them.  I think they cheered her up in the midst of this gloomy February.  Unless she's hiding it very well, she wasn't a bit insulted.  And nor would I be by a well-chosen gift of second hand clothes/footwear/accessories.  So I will bear that in mind in future when I'm about to pack up a load of stuff for the charity shop.  I commend this practice to you all.  Especially if you are my size and have lots of designer clothes you are getting tired of.




11 comments:

  1. Do you think the reluctance to do this is an English thing? My daughter regularly gets clothes parcels from friends of mine who have kids older than she is and then I pass them on to other friends. It's brilliant! Saved us a total fortune, especially when she was smaller and growing out of things really quickly. And it's loads of fun not knowing what you'll get. I second your recommendation! :-)

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  2. I think we feel able to hand on kids' clothes once ours have grown out of them, just not adult clothes we are a bit fed up with. This is a shame, since to our friends these clothes would be new and exciting.

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  3. Yes totally. If only anyone I knew was actually my size! I have passed on some of my clothes to other people although they do tend to be family or close friends. I've had shoes passed on to me though which is brilliant because my feet are such an odd shape so it's lovely to feel I'm not alone in the world with big boat feet! ;-)

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  4. There is nothing better then hand me downs. As a child I used to get my older cousin's which made them terribly glamorous. Nowadays it happens less but still clothes swap with friends, particularly with lovely clothes which may no longer fit.

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  5. I agree. Clothes swapping is a brilliant thing.

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  6. I used to regularly swap clothes with friends. It was great, you got "new" clothes and got rid of stuff you were sick to death of. It was good to see the things that had lurked unwanted in the back of your wardrobe being loved once again. Need to do it again I think :)

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  7. My wonderful daughter occasionally pops something "new to you" in the post to me. I'm always delighted to have a fresh top to wear, and there's a special something to knowing that she enjoyed wearing it first!

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  8. @linda - what does that make me? I get parcels from my mother when she clears out her wardrobe (actually she has quite good taste and buys far more expensive clothes than I do). BTW I am a middle aged mother not a starving student!

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  9. Today I have been wearing a cashmere poloneck handed onto me by a former landlady (and friend!) of mine who is about the same size of me. I have been extremely grateful for its stylish warmth. She had a big wardrobe clearout and invited me to take my pick before it went to the charity shop. I think that's a bit easier than trying to guess sizes and wants/needs and send a parcel.

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  10. @skybluepinkish - all proof that age is just a number I reckon - lovely that we're sharing clothes right across the generations!

    I'm inspired to put something about this on my own blog - I tweeted it last night and was directed to @collcons - going to be looking into this much more. Thanks Catherine!

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  11. One of my best friends uses me as her personal charity shop. Favourite and much-worn garments include the late-80s designer dress which she'd worn for 20 years before passing on (navy, big floaty skirt, huge white polka dots; I've had to twirl round in it at the request of small children) and the lovingly handmade black silk dress which shrunk in the wash (luckily, it shrunk to exactly my size).

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