Chapter 2

“No sweetheart I don’t want you to give up all of your modern conveniences. I’m not trying to make this hard for you. I only want you to think in terms of that era of woman and act accordingly.

I have a computer at home too – I use it to work at home sometimes. And I don’t think it would interrupt the time continuum too badly if your fancy modern coffeemaker sat on the kitchen counter – we could cover it up with a hand towel when it’s not in use so our ancestors don’t get ashamed of us!” he said, laughing.

“Really?” I asked. This was something I hadn’t counted on.

“Of course, honey. I know that we live in the computer age and that getting by without being online is almost impossible these days. And I don’t want to isolate you from your friends and family.

“So I’m not going to tell you there won’t be any computer or email or anything. We can set up one of the bedrooms as the “computer room” with all the things needed for your computer so you can still email your family, talk to them online, and look up things you need.

“But the rest of the house will be our 1950’s house. And if your coffeemaker makes you happy then bring it along too. Although I do love the sounds and smell of coffee percolating in my old coffee pot!

“One thing I do want is for you to dress in those vintage clothes. There are four or five good shops in town that sell vintage clothes and other things from the ‘50s and we will go shopping there for them,” he said.

“You want me to dress up in the clothes my mother wore?” I asked him.

“That’s right. It will help remind you that you are my June Cleaver as you call her. Dressing the part will get your head into being a 1950’s era housewife. Just like other historical sites have their employees dress in period costumes, dressing like this will help you learn to act and think like a woman of the ‘50s,” he said.

“But what about when I go grocery shopping or something out in public?” I asked.

“Didn’t you tell me yourself that you don’t have a lot of friends? Just the girls at the bank if I remember right. Well, if that’s the case, then you shouldn’t have to worry about bumping into a lot of people you know. There are almost 60,000 people here in the Lancaster area, so it’s not a real small town. Besides, the ‘retro look’ is coming back in fashion. And your friends will be so glad that you are happy, it won’t matter what you are wearing,” he said.

“I suppose...” I said reluctantly.

He was right – I was no social butterfly and I had no real friends, just a handful of work associates. So it wasn’t like I would lose my societal standing or anything if I was caught looking like something out of the History Channel. And his description of life as a retro housewife did have its appeal.

Dressing like a 1950’s era housewife would definitely make it easier to think like one – I knew about immersion learning when I was in Mexico for a summer one year during college. Nothing like being thrown in the middle of Mexico to make you learn the language quickly!

“Jim, can we do a small trial on this? I’ll tell you what – I have four weeks of vacation time built up that I have to use this year or I will lose it. I will take all four weeks of it and be your June Cleaver for the four weeks to see if it’s something we really want.

“I will do all the things you tell me you want from your 50’s housewife – the dressing up, the housework all of it. And if at the end of the four weeks, we still want to pursue it full-time, then I will put my resignation in at the bank,” I said.

“That sounds sensible and more than fair,” he said. “Looks like we need to go shopping!”

Shopping ... I hadn’t been clothes shopping in God knows how long. After the divorce, I didn’t have any reason to go clothes shopping. Who was I dressing up for? My around the house wear was sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt (or a sweatshirt if it was chilly). The only good clothes I had were the ones I used for work. I could barely remember my sizes. And now I was going to have to get vintage clothes? This would be interesting...

That Saturday Jim picked me up to go clothes shopping. I had already put in for my vacation time and since no one was scheduled for it at the time it went right through.

“This is kinda weird, Jim,” I said as we drove to the first clothes shop, “Steven would never go with me clothes shopping. He just gave me the credit card and told me to have fun. Having you go with me is kinda nice. Strange, but nice!”

“Well, this is just another of the things we miss out on in today’s modern society. There was a time when men went with the women to buy clothes because women didn’t drive. Men did the driving as well as handled the money. So men went with our women clothes shopping. And credit cards were practically non-existent except for a very few individuals,” he said.

“I’m glad you are coming with me. You can help me ... I have a lot to learn I guess!”

“Well, over the next four weeks you will get a “crash course” in the 1950’s woman! I will help you learn how to think and act like a lady did back then and how to get things done that you need to do,” he said.

We arrived at the vintage boutique aptly named “Remember When...” and we parked in the lot next to the boutique. Jim opened the door as he always did and offered me his arm as we went inside. I had to admit his sense of chivalry and manners was refreshing considering what I’d seen these days from other men.

“Oh, Jim!” I said as we walked into the store. I had to look back out the door before it closed – it felt like we had gone back in time! All over the place were 1940’s and 50’s era things. The first section right as we came in was the clothes section, with men’s and women’s period clothes. There was another section for housewares and another for small appliances and decorating ideas. It was amazing!

“Hi, welcome to “Remember When...” can I help you find anything?” a saleswoman said as she approached us. The woman was in her early thirties, but she looked like she just stepped out of a retro magazine. She wore a just below the knee red with white polka dots “circle” dress, seamed stockings, white wrist-length gloves, black pumps with three-inch kitten heels, and a string of large white (fake) pearls. Her blonde hair was done in a pageboy cut and she wore black eyeliner and red lipstick.

“Oh my! Y-you look ... amazing!” I said, looking at our saleslady in awe.

“Well, thank you,” she said blushing a bit at my remark.

“H-how do I look like that?” I said still dumbstruck.

“Pardon?”

“I’m sorry, let me start again. My boyfriend, the guy over there, wants me to learn to be his 1950’s housewife-type ... you know his June Cleaver, or Margaret Anderson from Father Knows Best type. He brought me here to buy some period clothes and wants me to dress the part so I will start thinking and acting like that.

“But I have no idea what to look for what to get. You look just like what he wants, your outfit is just the look he wants me to have. What do I look for?” I said, trying not to sound too inept.

“Don’t you worry, I was just as lost when I first started here too. I’ll be happy to help you”, she said as she laid her hand on my arm. “My name is Donna.”

“Hi, Donna it’s nice to meet you. My name is Nancy,” I said.

As we looked through the clothes I asked, “So where do you find all these clothes? I mean they don’t still make them do they?”

“No, I’m afraid not. We get them as donations sometimes and from estate sales and second-hand stores. They can still be found if you know where to look. But it gets harder and harder every year!” she explained.

“I can imagine!” I said.

“Now here is a very pretty dress, do you know what size you wear?” Donna asked.

“I don’t know ... it’s been so long since I bought a dress, I have no idea. I’m used to being in business suits!”