...a large swatch of magenta cloth, an orange, blue and magenta mumu, a yellowish-beige bathrobe.
The first time I ever heard the word mumu, it was said about something my maternal grandmother wore. She loved mumus. To her, they signaled that she was relaxing now. She always worked hard, first as a child in a family of field workers, then as a domestic, eventually as a bookkeeper and office manager, and later in life as the owner of antique stores. Most work mornings, she woke up at 5:00. She'd put coffee on to percolate, then put her hair in rollers and sit under the drier while she had her coffee. Sometimes, she'd have breakfast first: a slice of toast and one fried egg. When the weekend came around, she allowed herself the luxury of first hanging out in her quilted bathrobe, and then changing into a mumu as her around-the-house garb.
That makes me think of the specialness of those kinds of delineations. I have already said how special it was as a child to have certain foods that only came out at certain times (like during camping trips). There were school clothes and play clothes. Roast beef was on Sundays - well, okay, that was a bit too frequently for my taste. Hamburger Fridays were good, though.
Hmm. I feel I should say something about the black strap-on wings. After all, how often do those come along? Still, I am stumped. There are real feathers on it, and if someone were inclined to be a raven for Halloween, they'd have it made.
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