Mom loved experimenting with McCall’s dress patterns; this was her 1970’s hobby. My sister Maureen and I were the guinea pigs of standing straight for fittings. Trying to avoid any the straight-pinned hemlines and pinned sleeves. Easter and Christmas were the height of fashion to be dressed alike back then. She would get her inspiration from the JC Penney’s catalog that featured the same styled clothing for mothers, daughters and sisters.

I can still picture this in my mind’s eye one Easter of loathing to be dressed alike. All decked out in robin’s egg blue colored dress that was trimmed with multicolored embroidery. Matching purses, frilly lace ankle socks and white patent leather shoes. “Oh and don’t forget your white gloves girls,” said mom.   Prim and proper manners were also included, especially for church.  Holidays were times to sport your extra Sunday best, for you never knew who in church was watching. 

 But having other ideas that fateful Easter morning.  Like cutting my sister Maureen’s hair with a cereal bowl and scissors.  I was tired of looking like a twin and besides my sister is four years younger than me.  So way I went trimming and trimming just before the obligatory morning family photo.  Much to my horror I had cut too much in the front and now no bangs existed.  Maureen starting to cry, “We don’t look like twins anymore.” Which prompted mom to come into the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about. I was lucky it was thirty minutes until we had to leave for church. “But wait until we get home young lady,” exclaimed mom. That sentence was a fate worse than death. It meant no Easter basket full of chocolates for me. “Hurry up let’s get outside for our family photo.” Dad said.

Maureen dried her tears from the haircut debacle and mom rushed us out the back door to the garden. While my wish came true of not wanting to be a twin that year, thanks to my own devices.  It sadden me to see my sister’s eyes still red from crying and the half smiled look on my mom’s face.  Mom still has that old photograph and we laugh about it. Reminiscing about the Easter without the twins.