It barely felt as if I wore a jacket. What a jacket it was. Bright with blue and white stripes, it had the tightness along the forearms and the large leg-o-muttons at the top, as did most of our clothing in those days, but it stopped…at my waist. There was nothing of the cumbersome knee or floor-length coats about it.
Yet the jacket was not shocking when compared to the bottom half.
“Bloomers!” Ginevra and I cried together. I saw how she looked at them…like a starving man looked at bread. It wasn"t the first time I had seen that look. Strange how easily I recognized it.
“We shall get you pair,” I said. Joy is never so great as when it is shared.
Ginevra waved a hand at me. “I will make myself a pair.”
I stopped. This day was full of surprises. “You can do that? You can make clothing,
