Nineteen Fifty-Six Vol.4 Issue 2

FAMILY IS...
SLIPS,
TIGHTS, &
RUFFLED
SOCKS
AUTUMN WILLIAMS
I
had to guarantee to remember them
when visiting my grandparents in
Columbus, Georgia. If I neglected to
pack them, I would be dragged to the
store when I got there.
“You must look like a
presentable young woman and be
modest,” my grandmother always told
me. I never found that considerable as
an 8-year-old, but I assumed it was in
my best interest.
Sunday mornings were filled
with gospel music that cascaded
through the house from televisions
and stereos. The hymns welcomed me
when Grandaddy would wake me up
and joke that I had been sleep-talking
all night, screaming through the
house. Of course, it was never true.
After waking up, I would
promptly make my bed, shower and
adorn myself with my Sunday best.
I’d pull up my translucent
white tights, drape my flesh-colored
slip over my head, straighten
everything out and put on my
dress. Flats or sandals were the only
acceptable shoes. And as an accessory,
I usually had a cute little purse to go
with my outfit filled with goodies
Grandma would say, “A lady always
needs,” like soft peppermint puffs, a
notepad and pen for doodling, and a
couple dollars for the donation.
The rides to church were
always serene. I loved the slippery
feeling of my tights against the
leather seats of the car, it made me
feel like a princess. I’d sit in the back
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