And it was the year that I first clapped my eyes on a garment known as the bubble skirt. Oh, be still my beating teenaged heart, if that did not quickly rocket to the top of my list of things that I would die from if I didn\u2019t own it, then I would be I liar if did not proclaim this to be so.<\/p>\n
It even knocked River Phoenix off my list of objects of desire.<\/p>\n
As black and white striped bubble skirts began to appear on my friends, in Sportsgirl, and just on generally everyone I laid eyes on, I panicked and showed Mum the latest trend and begged, pleaded even, that if I did not get my ass into a phoofy skirt as soon as possible, then my social status would be forever cast out into the cold. And this will not do as a mere 14 year old.<\/strong><\/p>\n And then Mum said the words that spread fear into my very being, every time they escaped from her lips.<\/p>\n \u201cOh they are simple. I will make you one.\u201d<\/p>\n Looking back now, I can see she was well meaning. But Mum was not a good seamstress. YOU ARE NOW MUM! I HAVE SEEN YOUR QUILTING EFFORTS.<\/p>\n But back then\u2026.<\/p>\n I gave Mum some very, very precise designing instructions. It was to have a thick, black elastic band that sat high up on my waist. (Oh waist, I remember you\u2026.)<\/p>\n The material had to be EXACTLY like the ones that everyone was wearing. Either black and white dotted, or black and white striped. No deviations whatsoever.<\/p>\n Oh, and I needed it in like, 24 hours.<\/p>\n <\/a>Of course, the result was a light blue, seersucker, and baggy puffball skirt down to below my knees. It hung from a thin strip of white hat elastic that was sewn into the top.<\/p>\n Because the short, short, magically puffy ones were\u2026 \u201cCommon!\u201d<\/p>\n Which was the entire point!<\/p>\n So I attended all the birthday parties that year in my saggy bubble skirt while everyone else had a happier time because of their surrounding puffiness. And let\u2019s not even start on the bodysuits underneath.<\/strong><\/p>\n No wonder I was a moody, miserable teenager. I wanted to look like everyone else, but Mum\u2019s Singer prevented me from ever really fitting in.<\/p>\n This memory came flooding back to me last weekend, when I attended the 60th Wedding Anniversary of my Grandparents John and Jope. It was a stunning, sunny day and as I walked into the function, I noticed a poor young girl had forgotten her pants.<\/p>\n She had long, brown smooth legs and a tiny, high bottom encased in, what would seem to be, a pair of bright white cottontails.<\/p>\n Had she just come from the beach?<\/p>\n However, I got more confused when she turned around\u2026.<\/p>\n HOLY SKORT!<\/p>\n