The First Knitted Suit

Suburban Chicago, March 1962. This is the first knitted suit that I remember Mom having made (during my lifetime). She wore it for several years. She and I just were talking about the suit because Mom plans to knit a sweater for Mr. Irene using the same the window-pane pattern.

A New, Knitted Suit

Suburban Chicago, Autumn 1968. I'm in the Rec Room, modeling another suit Mom knitted for me. She used turquoise wool for this one. I used to roll up the elastic waistband as a way to shorten the hemline. That's probably why the hem is not even.

A Knitted Suit from the 1980s

Columbia, South Carolina, November 13, 1988. I used to knit suits, too (okay, this is a two-piece dress). The sleeves are not Dolman sleeves—I never liked those batwings—but they are wide. I knitted this in Lana Borgosesia's Hilton yarn. I worked the yarn at 7 stitches to the inch: knitters know this is a fine (to some, tedious) gauge.

I loved this garment. It's knitted in my favorite color! I wore it when I taught, and I wore it for special occasions. And . . .  I still have it:

In Stitches

VW sporting a knitted suit wins "most beautiful beach Beetle of the Year" award.

Fishing and knitting ...

… again.

Lake Nipissing, Ontario, July 1965. I show off another pan fish while Mom knits.

*     *     *     *     *

Lake Nipissing, Ontario, July 1965. Mom works on the sweater top of a knitted suit. She's taken care again to protect herself from the sun.

Japanese Tea Garden

San Francisco, California, April 1968. Mom chose a knitted suit for a day of sightseeing.

Another Christmas Line Up

Almost everyone is here!

Suburban Chicago, December 25, 1961. We're in the living room on Christmas Day. From left to right: my Toronto Cousin, her Father Kadis, Kadis's wife (and my Dad's twin sister) Jonė, Jonė's and my Dad's Mother Tatjana, my Mom, my Dad, and I.

I'm wearing that aqua and white suit Mom knitted.

A Milestone Anniversary

In 1967, the Displaced Persons from our suburban enclave gathered to celebrate the wedding anniversary of one of the couples.

The celebration, like most Lithuanian gatherings, probably occurred on a Sunday afternoon.

The ladies gathered, and my Dad snapped another photo:

Suburban Chicago, January 1967. My Mom and her best friend, Donna, sit on the floor. My Mom wears a black-and-emerald-green suit that she knitted.

Paneled

Suburban Chicago, April 1962. Dad and I enjoy the newly redecorated Rec Room.  To the left stands the White-brand sewing machine.

I'm sporting the little aqua and white suit that Mom knitted.

Christmas Manners: Put out a few decorations before the guests arrive.

Suburban Chicago, December 1965. My Mom and her best friend, Donna, enjoy the Christmas cheer at a friend's home. Mom wears a suit she knitted. At the edge of the shot, on the far right, rests Mom's knitting bag. She must have thought she'd be able to sneak in a few rows during the party.

It's Friday. Let's go out to dinner.

My Parents and I posed for this snapshot in my Parents' bedroom. It was a "master bedroom" of sorts because it had a three-quarter bath attached to it. By today's standards, it was a small room. To the right of my Dad is his mahogany desk, at which he used a Parker fountain pen to write the bills every Saturday morning. The photo of me that Dad loved hung just to the far right, next to the door to the bathroom.

I am wearing the aqua and white suit that my Mom knitted.

Suburban Chicago, April 1961. I get ready to go out with my Parents. It's unlikely that we were "going out to dinner." My Parents were frugal, and we rarely ate in restaurants. Here, we probably are heading off to another, customary, Sunday visit with a Lithuanian family.

Happiness

Suburban Chicago, April 1962. When I was a little girl, nothing made me happier than the times when Dad snapped my picture. Mom knitted the little suit I sport in this photo. It was aqua and white.