In 1957

twirly dress_0002

I love this old snapshot; I have a framed enlargement of it on the wall and I look at it often. It was taken by my father at the Prospect Park zoo in Brooklyn, and as you can see from the date stamped on the top edge, it was May of 1957. That's me proudly showing off my twirly dress, holding it out like a fan.

It was the only dress in my life ever sewn for me by a real dressmaker,  made from a bolt of material in pale shades of aqua, an astonishing gift from my grandmother. I don't know how I came to be the recipient of such extravagance...but I was six years old and thrilled, feeling like a princess despite the band-aid on each of my knees.

I note too that this is the brief era of my "pixie" haircut, another little fashion dream come true. My father had taken me to the barber to accommodate this wish, and I felt delightfully French and chic afterwards, but my mother, who was extremely committed to the idea of long hair, even if it was on my head, went ballistic. (I endured a whole lot of unpleasantness for that damned haircut.) But anyway, there I am, looking quite pleased with myself. I haven't been that confident since.

More interesting than Her Majesty the band-aid princess, though, are the other people in the picture, two of whom are siblings dearly loved. That's my sister Marlene in the stroller, tiny at age two, her bonneted head down due to sleepiness or sunlight or something more interesting to look at. (Oh, how I miss her!)

And there's my beloved brother Eddie in the quintessential 1950s outfit of striped tee shirt, baggy jeans, and converse sneakers. His hair is cut like a bowl, not much shorter than my own, and he is probably wondering why I think I am such a big shot, getting all that center stage attention for being a little ham. My big brother Eddie always had better ideas. (Oh, how I miss him!)

As for those two men in the background, they are random strangers who, out of all possibilities of time and place, happened to be standing right there the moment this picture was taken. Nearly 55 years later I look at them and wonder who they were. (I assume they are both dead by now...unless they were much younger than they looked...and it occurs to me that of this group, I am the sole survivor.)

If I went back to the zoo now with this photo in hand, I could probably figure out exactly where this was. I wonder what animals were contained beyond that barrier...perhaps the seals or polar bears.

I loved going to Prospect Park. It was the borough's backyard and my childhood experience of nature. (I read someplace that it still contains the last remaining portion of native woodland that exists in Brooklyn.) It's exactly where we would have gone on a glorious May Sunday, and I'm guessing that this was a Sunday.

The weather must have gotten warm in that suddenly-it's-like-summer way, and the older gent has taken off his jacket and is holding it in his arms. I can imagine how the mild air feels, grassy-cool in the dappled shade of oak and maple and tulip trees. I can almost hear the calliope music of the carousel nearby, and the scuff of my patent leather shoes on the pavement. Maybe we will get an egg cream at the boat house later, or a box of Cracker Jacks with a prize inside.