When Taxis Were a Quarter...

 
...and the subway was 15 cents.

It was 55 years ago this week that I flew to New York City on a one-way ticket to begin my career. Or, as I felt at the time, to begin my life. At last!

The plane was thanks to my wonderful Aunt Sally. When she heard I was planning to go by bus, she sprang for the ticket.

I came with one suitcase, which contained my entire wardrobe. Examining the closets and drawers today, I cannot believe I have accumulated so much "stuff". And this is just the tip of the landfill of discards that must exist somewhere.

Big enough to hold a life...

I had two dresses that I alternated wearing for weeks and weeks until I made friends with a coworker in my new job who had a sewing machine. I borrowed it one weekend, lugging that thing on the subway from Greenwich Village to my apartment on the upper east side. The something I ended up making was teal. That's all I remember. Finally I bought my own Singer from an appliance store on Third Avenue and paid it off on time at $8 a month.

Choose one from each column...

Because I wore them so often and they had such starring roles in my life, I will never forget those two dresses. One was persimmon colored cotton in a textured weave. A sheath dress, it had an empire waist with a narrow self tie, low pointed collar and short sleeves. It set me back $40, but I splurged and bought it at the Cleveland Bonwit Teller store because, well, it was Bonwit Teller. It felt very Audrey Hepburn in "Breakfast at Tiffany's" though she never wore a dress like that in the movie.

The inspiration

I made the second dress before leaving home. It was grey and gold in a Chanel-like flecked tweed, also a sheath, long sleeves, no collar but a neckline edged in braiding that tied in a bow. I'd completely lined it so the dress was incredibly hot. New York City in early September can also be incredibly hot, especially while job-hunting, carrying a big art portfolio, wearing heels with pantyhose, and don't forget the white gloves.

L'inspiration

I arrived on Labor Day night. When I hadn't gotten a job by Wednesday I began to panic. By Friday I had two jobs to choose from. I took the wrong one. But that's another story.

How many dresses or outfits can you remember? Maybe if I set my mind to it I can come up with a list, but those two are on instant recall. Labor Day makes me think of my first week in New York. When I see myself on those first days of the rest of my life I am wearing one of them. And I know I'll be wearing the other tomorrow.