My father had died from cancer complications in 1943 at the age of 50. My mother raised me and my younger sister on a farm eight miles from the nearest town during a time when women had few opportunities to work outside the home.
My three brothers had served in the military overseas during World War II and by 1948 were starting their own families and careers.
My mother and sister and I moved into the small town nearby in 1946 where my mother supported us by taking a job as a cook at the local high school.
My mother had become an expert in "making do" and having little to spend on a wedding, she searched for a way to provide me with a suitable wedding dress. When she saw an ad in a magazine for unused World War II parachutes for $2.98 apiece, she promptly sent for two of them and set about redesigning them into lovely dresses.
She used one parachute for my wedding dress and the other was dyed pink for my sister's maid of honor dress.
The dresses were made from the same pattern and were as beautiful as any ready-made or mail order gowns of that time.
The description of my dress in my 52-year-old wedding book is as follows: The bridal gown was a floor-length white silk and nylon dress with a marquisette yoke and round neckline and long bridal pointed sleeves. A strand of pearls was worn at my throat and a finger tip veil of tulle fell from a beaded coronet.
I carried a bouquet of red roses with an inserted corsage in the center.
My husband and I celebrated our 50th anniversary in 1998 with our four children and their families and when I recently took out my wedding gown, I was delighted to find that, unlike us, that old parachute was quite resistant to the aging process. The dress, although somewhat yellowed, is still beautiful and brings back memories of a time when "making do" was a way of life.
