Dressed: One from nearly twenty years ago
In the olden days, farming people had two sorts of clothes: their ‘good’ clothes and their ‘wearing’ clothes. Good clothes were for outings — high days, holidays and Sundays — while ‘wearing’ clothes were for working in. In our house, my father used to talk about ‘good’ clothes and ‘ould’ clothes. Usually, ‘wearing’ or ‘working’ clothes had once been good clothes. A farmer’s outfit would most likely have consisted of a pair of old tweed or heavy cloth trousers worn with an old suit jacket. These need not necessarily have matched, as trousers would wear out more quickly than jackets. Belts were uncommon, and trousers were held up with galluses. If the elastic in these wore out, the trousers could be secured with a length of baler twine — and no one would think any less of the wearer. The look would be finished off with a cloth ‘kep’, as there was no such thing as a heated tractor cab in those days.
Women who worked at home would wear an old skirt that had once been a good, church-going skirt, along with layers of jumpers and cardigans and a flowered apron. When outdoors, she would add a headscarf, an old coat and a pair of wellington boots. Trousers were never worn, as they were not considered ladylike.
Bert’s mother still adheres to these traditional dress codes. While at home, she wanders around in an assortment of mismatched garments, often including layers of polyester and acrylic skirts. She always wears a flowered apron and a pair of Bert’s old deck shoes. Many of her clothes date from the early acrylic years and are virtually indestructible — as long as they’re kept away from naked flames. Being both canny and from Cully, she sees no need to replace these vintage garments. Her better clothes are kept for special outings, Church and the like.
Last week, Pearlie asked Bert to take her to visit her sister Lizzie. Since it was only Lizzie she was going to see, she decided against changing out of her ‘wearing’ clothes. On the way, she asked Bert to stop at the local garage to stock up on wild bird seed. She gave him £10 and instructed him to spend £5. Meanwhile, she waited in the van. But then she changed her mind. Bert said he was gathering up her purchases when she suddenly appeared in the shop foyer, shouting:
‘Bertie! Bertie! Ye may spend the whole ten poond on the wee birds!’
This is what he told me.
God, it was strange to see her standing there in her old ‘wearing’ clothes. You know, I never give her clothes a thought when she’s at home, because I’m so used to the odd way she dresses. But to see her standing there among normal folk — it looked so strange. Back in the van, I was having a wee giggle to myself about it, and she said, ‘What are you laughing at?’ I said, ‘You! And the cut of you, standing in the shop with your apron and all the rest of it.’ And do you know what she said back?
‘Those that knows me, knows I hae better; and those that disnae, disnae matter!’
