Inspection

Suburban Chicago, December 1970. Gigi explores the tree. (That unwrapped box from Marshall Field's is probably Dad's gift to Mom.)

Freshly Cut

Door County, Wisconsin, December 1978. This is the only time we cut our own tree. The tree grew on the Door County property. We transported it back to our Suburban-Chicago home.

I loved that coat. It was an Irish tweed. Mom first bought an identical coat for herself. I liked her coat so much that my Parents took me to the State Street Marshall Field's, where they purchased one like Mom's for me. I wore it for years. I regret giving it away!

(Hey! That's my first car.)

A Brief Aspiration

 

Suburban Chicago, May 1960. I react upon Marshall Field's delivery of the mahogany piano.

(The sculpted rug was grey. It was not wall-to-wall carpeting.)

Saturday Shopping

Oakbrook Center, Illinois, 1969. Mom and I stand outside the Oakbrook Marshall Field's. Mom's wearing one of her wonderful knitted suits, and I'm still sporting my Ranger Rick jacket.

Be the first to check out the gifts.

Suburban Chicago, December 1970. That unwrapped box from Marshall Field's must be for Mom.

A Sunday Visit with the College Kid

I focus primarily on old photos on this blog, and photos from the 1970s don't seem old to me. When I ran across the two photos I post here, however, I digested a different sense of "old."

These images record a Sunday afternoon when my Parents visited me in my college dorm room. Both Mom and Dad were younger than I am now. The "digital" clock—a high school graduation gift from an old boyfriend—records the time and date. I'm wearing a kilt that I picked up at a second-hand store in Evanston, Illinois. The store stood on a street that ran between the Marshall Field's and the "L" tracks. 

I shared the room with two other women. The "dorm" was a converted apartment building that housed about thirty-six students. Our space was an old living room, and my area occupied the alcove overlooking the street. The alcove was a cold spot, but it felt as though I had my own room within the bigger room.

Evanston, Illinois, November 21, 1976. I can't make out which photos I tacked to the wall area between the windows.

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Evanston, Illinois, November 21, 1976. Had Mom been looking at one of my textbooks? 

Do you remember when people used to "dress up" to go shopping?

Chicago, Illinois, March 1973. Mom stands on Michigan Avenue, near Monroe. She's already been to Marshall Field's; she carries one of the store's boxes. The skyline has changed over the years: compare it here. The Hancock Tower—under construction since 1965 and completed in 1976—stands in the background.

Christmas Manners: Don't get overwhelmed by the gift wrap.

Suburban Chicago, December 24, 1964. We've finished our Kūčios meal, and I am opening gifts. The two wrappers with monograms at the lower left are from Marshall Field's (those must have been enclosed gifts for the adults). The third box in the stack behind me is a Barbie and Midge game.

Did you go shopping this weekend?

The Christmas season is in full throttle at the malls.

Oakbrook, Illinois, December 1964. Mom and I stand outside of the Marshall Field's at Oakbrook Center. We wait until a few weeks before Christmas to start our shopping.

The Second One

By the time I finished knitting my first sweater, I was ready to tackle a more complicated project. My Mom bought a nice worsted-weight wool for me in a soft, pink color. I recall that we selected the yarn at Marshall Field's on Lake Street, in Oak Park. Back then, Field's featured a modest yarn department in an annex on the store's fourth floor. The yarn department at Field's stood near the Girl Scout section of the store. I so wanted to be a Girl Scout so that I could wear the spiffy uniforms on display at Field's. But I'll save that story for another post.

The pink color we selected for my second sweater was not an abrasive tone; it was a shade that I still would wear today. Color wasn't the difficult issue for me; selection of a pattern was the tough decision. I wanted to knit something more challenging, but Mom didn't want me to be discouraged by a pattern that was too advanced.

We narrowed down my choices by reviewing the pattern books Mom had accumulated. Mom subscribed to two knitting magazines: Stitchcraft, a British publication to which my friend Kris and I fondly referred as "Witchcraft," and Vogue Knitting. Mom and I found a "beginner Aran" in one of the Stitchcraft issues. I worked on the sweater for about six months.

After I completed it, I wore that pink Aran for many years.

Suburban Chicago, June 1969. The issue of Stitchcraft is on my lap as I work on the pink Aran.

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Suburban Chicago, December 1969. I model the Aran. Do you like my necklace? It's a peace sign.

Oakbrook Center Opens

Oakbrook Center opened in March 1962, and our family began frequenting the shopping center a few months later.

Oakbrook was a special place. Even if a family could not afford to shop at all of the stores, it always could enjoy the flowers and other seasonal decorations.

Oakbrook punctuated many occasions for me. I went to the old Oakbrook "UA Cinema" on my first date. The movie was A Touch of Class with Glenda Jackson and George Segal. I had dinner at "The Magic Pan" on the night I graduated from high school. I used to meet my Godmother at Henrici's for lunch. When I started interviewing for university jobs, Mom took me to Oakbrook to select a suit. After I got a job, she indulged me by buying a pair of unforgettable shoes at one of the Oakbrook stores. Mr. Irene and I selected our engagement rings at the Oakbrook Marshall Field's. Mom and I picked out Mom's "mother-of-the-bride" dress at Oakbrook's Lord & Taylor.

Oakbrook, Illinois, August 1962. The shopping center always plants beautiful flowers. In the spring, it is full of tulips. That's the famous, round Sears store in the background.
 

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Oakbrook, Illinois, August 1962. My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, my Mom, and I sit near one of the fountains. We are in front of the Sears store. Mom holds the pocketbook that my Dad's friend, Casey, brought from Colombia.
 

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Oakbrook, Illinois, August 1962. Ah! That dress is so fresh in my memory, I can almost hear the rustle of the fabric.
 

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Oakbrook, Illinois, August 1962. Well, hello there.

Blue Hike

This is one of the first photos I took with my Brownie camera.

My Mom wears an elegant, mohair cardigan that she knitted. She also duplicate stitched a little floral adornment in angora yarns. We went shopping at the fabric department at Marshall Field's to find wool in the exact shade of blue so that Mom could sew a skirt to match the sweater.

She knitted a similar cardigan in red mohair. You'll soon see a photo here of that sweater.

Mom removed her Wayfarer sunglasses for the photo. She was in charge of shooting home movies, and she's got the movie camera bag in her hand.

It's a weekend day because my Dad is not wearing a tie.



Morton Arboretum, Illinois, Autumn 1966. Don't you think they'd pass for Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Phillip if a few Corgis were biting at their heels?

Christmas Shoppers on State Street

Chicago Loop, December 1962. Dad took this photo on the same day when he snapped Mom and me pausing at the subway stop.

UPDATE: Attention shoppers: Mr. Irene just did some homework for us. The store in the foreground, on the right, is Wieboldt's. Marshall Field's is to the north, in the next block, in front of the Chicago Theater.

Found it.

I mentioned here that Mr. Irene and I spent part of the day after our wedding at Oakbrook Center.

Mr. Irene and I went to the mall to do a bit of pre-honeymoon shopping. At Field's, we found Mom and our visiting friends. Mom had taken the friends to Oakbrook as an afternoon distraction while Mr. Irene and I readied for our trip to Venice. And—no surprise—we tracked down Mom and the visiting friends at the Field's lower-level café.

Mr. Irene reminded me that one of the visiting friends took a photo of us at that day:
 

Oakbrook, Illinois, June, 1989. My Mom, Mr. Irene, and I stand with a visiting friend at Oakbrook Center. We have the Marshall Field's shopping bags. Mom and I wear our favorite color: beige.

It's a good day to shop.

Mom and I are going shopping today. I don't like to window shop any longer. I prefer to go to a store, find what I need, and leave. Window shopping, or "looking around," eats into my knitting time. When the clock is ticking, one must prioritize how one spends free time. Mom and I will go to a nearby mall here in town. It should be quiet. A football game will take place this afternoon. Since I don't have to coach the game—ha ha—our schedule is open.

I remember how much fun I had when my Mom took Little Me shopping. Her day off from work was Thursday, and sometimes she would pick me up from school. From there, we would head to the old Marshall Field's on Lake Street in Oak Park, Illinois. On our way out of Field's, we usually stopped at the store bakery, where we would purchases some Napoleons and Eclairs. The Field's clerk packed the pastries into a white, cardboard box, and she tied them with a gold string. Even today, I use the Field's Napoleon as the standard against which I measure all other Napoleons.

If Mom had more time, or if she felt like treating me to a special outing, then we would go to the Marshall Field's in the newly built Oakbrook Center. Oakbrook! It was a beautiful outdoor mall with elegant stores like Field's, I. Magnin, Bramson's, and Saks Fifth Avenue. We usually went to the "bargain level" at Field's. We often ate a hot dog at the Field's café before we headed home, down Roosevelt Road.

Oakbrook weaves through many memories for me, and I'll return to talking about it again.

Oakbrook had such special meaning to me that Mr. Irene and I headed there to take a nice, spring walk on the day after we got married. We shopped at Rizzoli, where I bought Allen Bloom's The Closing of the American Mind and Judith Balaban Quine's The Bridesmaids.

I enjoyed window shopping during early trips to the Oak Park and Oakbrook stores. With Field's gone, and no Oak Park or Oakbrook nearby, I'd rather pick up what's on my list and leave.

Suburban Chicago, December 1961. My Mom shows my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, her purchases after a shopping trip. The women stand at our kitchen table.

Thank you, but I prefer not to study piano.

I would rather take ballet lessons.

Suburban Chicago, November 1961. I remained skeptical for many years.