In Celebration of MHS Class of 1958
Sunday, June 29, 2008
THE MYSTERY OF THE MISSING PETTICOAT
As I stir the lemon cake batter for our daughter’s 42nd birthday (can’t believe she and I are THAT old) while listening to the soft strains of Miles Davis’ “Laura,” I am thinking about how I’ll tell the story of the 1958 missing petticoat. Now, boys, I’m SURE you didn’t know about the under accoutrements of the female gender unless you had sisters. However, all of you will remember that we girls in high fashion – on the days when we didn’t wear tight pencil skirts - wore very full skirts (yes, we had tiny waists back then and looked good in them), and it was necessary to have very full, stiff, ruffly petticoats underneath to make the skirts poofy. My dear Aunt Mary who was a professional seamstress toiled many hours sewing for me an extremely full petticoat full of ruffles made of heavy sheeting that could take a good starching. Now you who laundered these know that after the starching and drying, spread out on the lawn or over clothes lines, these petticoats were never ironed, as ironing would flatten them. At any rate, I was (or believed I was) the envy of my girlfriends whose petticoats weren’t quite as poofy. One day after dressing out for Ms. Fredna Cross’ gym class in those y-u-g-l-y blue shorts and white shirt, I returned to the locker room to dress for the next class, and found my petticoat, which would never have fit into my tiny locker and which I left on a bench, was missing. My friends helped me search all over the room, and finally resorted to pulling up full skirts of all girls they saw the rest of the school day to try to help me find my petticoat. To my complete embarrassment, Mother phoned the Principal Dr. Carson the next day and demanded that something be done about the missing petticoat. I’m sure that for once he was speechless. I wish I had been privy to that conversation. Eventually it was decided that short of an illegal strip search of all girls, that nothing could be done. At any rate, this was the next day, and the petticoat could be long gone and far away by then. It was never recovered. However, that’s one story from high school that I’ll never forget. Mother and I had many good laughs over that one, thinking of my friends yanking up skirts all day, searching.
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12 comments:
Love this story. It reminds me of the time I came home from a date and could find only one shoe the next morning. My mother and I turned the house upside down, and it was never found. Yes, I came home with both shoes on and in my right mind. It remains an absolute mystery. Perhaps the person who stole your petticoat also stole my shoe.
Hi, Ouida,
And there must also be a separate planet for missing socks. I cannot tell you how many times I've had one of a pair go missing. It's just another of life's mysteries.
At this time in our lives it would be only fitting and right for the culprit to confess to this deed. We must rid our minds, bodies and souls of the garbage and the "lost" pettitcoat is just that. So will the person who took the pettitcoat make a full-fledged, cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die, girls' scout honor confession at the Tuesday night dinner? You'll feel much better as I'm sure through the years you have grieved over your transgression. Now's the time to come clean!
The petticoat story reminds me of when I was in a math class in eighth grade...can't remember the teacher's name....anyway.....I had on six starched petticoats all fastened with one huge safety pin. This teacher called on several students to go to the board to do problems and when I tried to stand up, the safety pin sprung open and stuck in me and all six petticoats headed south. I grabbed them and sat back down...still being stabbed by the pin. She called my name a second time as I was the only one not at the board with my chalk ready. I just froze and remained on the edge of my seat holding on to all those petticoats and looking desperate. Finally she realized something was wrong and came over and whispered to me...asked me what was the matter. I whispered back to her that all my petticoats were falling off and she told me to make a run for the door. I finally did that and barely made it to the hall before everything hit the floor. It remains one of my most embarrassing moments.
We might rename the blog "Petticoat Junction" or something like that.
Martha, a few years ago I completely solved the problem of missing/mis-matched socks. I got a collection of safety pins. Now each evening as I take my socks off, I safety pin them together. No more lost socks ... no more discovering I have one blue and one black sock on ...
To John: Thanks for the hint about how to keep socks together!
To Anonymous: Kind of funny now, but I can imagine it was not fun to have it happen to you in high school. You had an inderstanding teacher.
To Jinny: Maybe someone will confess. I'd certainly forgive. However, I let that go a long time ago, and can laugh about it now. I hope no one carries "guilt bags" around over their shoulders. I decided that I'm a decent person, and that the teachings of my childhood that everyone should feel guilty are unproductive, to say the least.
M.A.
Did this happen after the Class Gift was decided upon? If after, I think maybe a seance involving J.O. Carson might be in order. No water Cooler, No petticoat. I think I may have solved the mystery for you. I never did trust that man. If before the Class Gift? ... Coach Owens should be a suspect. He was secretly a "cross dresser" I'll bet a lot of you didn't know that.
You'd better be glad those 2 are not around with their special paddles! Naughty boy!
Now David, Don't go talking about Coach Owens!!
Anonymous, please don't get me wrong. We all admired Coach Owens. MHS students and faculty alike. His leadership and his discipline is legendary and it's that for which he'll always be remembered. A true man among men.
I'm only referring to a side of him during months between fall season and spring practice that a lot of you never had a chance to witness. There was never anything lewd, lascivious or untoward in his conduct.
It's just that he would sorta drift over to the "soft" side where I was called "Charlotte". John Harvey was "Adrienne". EMJC coach, "Hot damn boy! You don't want ta hit, hit th' road!" Sullivan was "Irene" and Coach Owens always liked us to call him, "Princess Sparkle Pony".
Huh?
I don't want to talk about that anymore. I'm off to eat watermelon.
Edwina emailed me concerning the petticoats we used to wear. She hasn't yet figured how to post, and anyway has gone to Norway (good excuse), but she insisted that her petticoat was bigger than mine and was starched to a "brick-like standard." She marveled that we wanted to look like "apples on a stick," and evidently thought that was fetching. Also, she talked about the bother of dressing out for tennis and walking several blocks to the courts carrying all her stuff, including the "starched encumbrance." She had to ride the bus home with all her accoutrements, unless she could get a ride home with Coach Fredna Cross - if there was room for the petticoat. Ha!
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