AS I ENGAGED IN THE SEASONAL RITUAL of switching over the clothes in my closet from summer to fall, my mind drifted to memories of my Aunt Sylvia ― a New York native who was my early guide as I began navigating the concepts of "style." When she passed away a few years ago, my sister Sandra and I carefully sorted through a collection of fashion memories as we cleared out the walk-in closet in her Florida condo.
We sifted through the closets, drawers and storage boxes that housed sweater sets, pantsuits (Hilary Clinton had nothin' on Aunt Sylvia), matching bags and shoes. We found clothes with price tags still on them. We counted 32 house dresses, representing her daily after-work transition as she would change into one at the end of each day (to wear between the time she arrived home and before she dressed for bed). We discovered organized drawers of undergarments and unearthed expensive scarves preserved in their original gift boxes.
Soon we were laying out her outfits on the bed, coordinating the shoes and the jewelry into her memorable ensembles. We'd take a moment to admire them before they were packed away into the boxes for charity ― a pause, a smile, a small tribute to her talent.
While certainly appreciative, my cousin Larry admitted if it had been left up to him he would have dumped all the clothing into several green garbage bags, dropped them off at Goodwill and called it a day. We stood there in disbelief. Unceremoniously dumped? Never. Touched by a maven's influence, obviously only two sisters could give their Aunt's carefully curated collection of clothes the proper goodbye that a lifetime of thoughtful fashion decisions deserved.
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