Upstairs in the attic are three dolls. There is Baby, Daughter's favourite doll from her childhood, then there's Julia, who was mine, and Valerie, who belonged to my sister. In their heyday, they had quite a wardrobe. Daughter's lifelike baby doll was clothed in little dresses from fund-raising sales. My sister ran up quite a stylish wardrobe for Valerie. I was given Julia for my seventh birthday, and the girl next door (who was very grown up, about eighteen) made her clothes. Lately they've had nothing but the clothes they lie around in, until now.
This evening I started sorting through the cavernous maw of the attic cupboard. Out from a zipped up storage bag, good as new, fell Julia's ball gown and Baby's pink dresses and woollies. As for Valerie - fur lined tartan coat with matching hat. Party frock. Blazer and red dress, which I think she arrived in. A cardigan which belonged to Daughter before the doll had it, and I can't believe she was ever that tiny.
Hoarding is a bad idea, but perhaps this isn't hoarding. Perhaps it's treasuring.
3 comments:
I think it's treasuring! My parents are packing up for their move, and in the process we found my beloved doll, Mandy, along with all of her clothes, handmade by a sweet elderly lady from church, Leah. NO WAY was I letting them give or donate that!!!!
So precious, and a part of your past. How lovely that she'd been kept so carefully all those years.
Our girlies send their regards to Mandy.
And she wishes a happy, happy belated Whitsunday to her UK dolly cousins! :-)
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