My Shirt

My Shirt

In the early 1970s I lived in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.  My husband, Ken, was an urban minister and we were in the process of putting up subsidized apartments near downtown.  The architect who generously agreed to help make this happen was William G. Crawford.  He and his wife, Dottie, went to our church.  

Dottie was elegant, to say the least.  One day she invited me to go shopping with her.  She ended up buying me an expensive suit and shirt.  I suppose I should have been happy and grateful.  I was grateful but the concept of people buying ministers expensive gifts has always been distasteful to me.

I wore the suit a few times.  I have no idea what happened to it over the years.  But, over the years, I've looked at the shirt and have even tried it on a couple of times.  It's kind of a light gold color.  It's a Givenchy for Chesa.  Silk.  It has "Givenchy" embossed all over it. A couple of weeks ago I had it dry cleaned.

Yesterday I went to a birthday lunch with my Power Rangers.  I tried the shirt on but couldn't wear it.  I don't know why.  It looked good even though it's between 40 and 50 years old.

I have a big birthday coming up on the 18th.  I'm going to try to wear it that night.  Hope I can make myself do it.  Of course we can all understand the irony that I am now an architect's wife.

Built in 1970s.  Still standing. 

 


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