Handbag
by Ruth Fainlight
My mother's old leather handbag,
crowded with letters she carried
all through the war. The smell
of my mother's handbag: mints
and liptsick and Coty powder.
The look of those letters, softened
and worn at the edges, opened,
read, and refolded so often.
Letters from my father. Odour
of leather and powder, which ever
since then has meant womanliness,
and love, and anguish, and war.
Random thought, but i've always considered poetry to be the literary medium that is the most difficult to do in a way that resonates with people. To pack so much emotion and meaning into such a limited format requires, to me, an unimaginably skilled grasp of language and emotion.
there are generations of these in my keeping right now, going back to the american civil war, my mothers and fathers things, grand parents, great grand parents, great aunts photo collections, momentos and letters, jewlery, old toys, and diplomas, passports, handspun clothing, ancient crockery( no makers marks....),etc, etc
arrow points picked by my great uncle john, as he followed a horse drawn plow.....not much else to do back there right!
Not to be crude but everything they mentioned inside the bag was from a serious relationship. I really wonder if the outside of the bag was for the less serious relationships that were still candidates.
Or was it common for soldiers to give out pieces of their uniform to people they just met out?
I read an article about a similar WWII woman's service and more than anything these women's jobs were to be warm and friendly to a bunch of young scared solders who far from home and wondering if they'd make it back.
So they'd smile and they'd flirt and they'd charm and they'd dance and maybe the boys would feel less afraid or less homesick and maybe they'd have something to look forward to.
I'd bet just that was enough for some appreciative solders to give her a pin, if only to remember them by.
I miss the people of her generation. I feel like we could use their perspective, experience and fortitude right now. I sure miss their music too...even though Bird Lives.
I lost both my grandmothers this past 7 years. One about the same age as Betty, the other a few years younger. It's amazing how much insight you can glean from one-off comments in passing conversation you can pick up, or for that matter drop.
I'm in the middle of Gen-X... kind of the last generation raised "tough" so to speak. Also a generation facing massive ageism, despite knowing and understanding technology as well or better than the younger generations. First generation to make less than that which came before. By the same token, I don't think my generation has a lot of stand-out leaders in its ranks. We've mostly been good by example, but starkly independent.
All I know is that I miss both of my Grandmothers deeply.
Okay pathetic downvoters. If the commenter loves music of her generation so much then they should actively look to support local live arts that play that kind of music. But yeah never mind lets only support Big Music Industry instead (or other big entertainment industries).
I can't say as to what it might've been like 80+ years ago, but years back I was with a friend on a trip through a PX and there was a rotary display (perhaps like you might see used for postcards in other contexts) with rank insignia and other small uniform bits for fairly low prices (single-digit dollars iirc, though this was 20+ years ago). Even if they had to pay out of pocket or deal with an irritable quartermaster, the urge to give a small remember-me-by token to a friendly (and let's be honest, beautiful) face when facing down imminent chaos and barbarity is probably strong. Similarly, I recall hearing of troops throwing their coins to kids along the embarkment route in the UK as they headed to Normandy; after all, where they were going they wouldn't need them.
The display probably exists just because soldiers need that stuff, as a practical matter.
When they're required to be in uniform, then that's a requirement.
So if yesterday a uniform got ruined (by whatever mechanism that happens -- shit does happen to clothes sometimes), then today they can scrounge together another one.
Or they put together a spare one.
Or whatever.
(But it certainly is romantic to think that extra uniform parts exist for sale primarily to give as keepsakes to the Betty Whites of the world.)
Betty White holds such a highly regarded “Hollywood Star” place for me. It was fascinating to see her brought to life through her very ordinary belongings. Fun read.
Perhaps there were spares in case anyone lost theirs? I don't know enough about the military to say whether that's likely, but as sensible chaps it seems a reasonable assumption.
I was going to throw in a rather glib "and the other side was styled by Hugo Boss" but I figured I'd check if that was actually true first and... only kinda:
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