Words by Liliana Gaggiano
In an old wooden wardrobe at my grandmother’s house sits the story of her life told through dresses, pants and jackets. This is where history lives; in between the creases of fabric, stories are woven into faded labels and careful stitching. Our mothers’ wardrobes are archives of female experience, told through thread and seam.
Women re-live their most precious moments through clothing. My grandmother cherishes the day she got engaged. She dressed in a common formal/casual outfit for the 1960-70s ; a classic skirt and blouse. She recalls being surrounded by family and having to find her ring inside the cake.
Beyond classic skirts and lightweight blouses, women’s fashion remained very traditional. My grandmother’s wedding dress reflects an era of modesty and symbolises a woman’s purity. She had two garments for her wedding, as this was the custom; ‘you’d have your wedding dress for the ceremony and reception, and then before you went back home you’d change into a different dress’, for her, that was a red and white mini dress which was trendy and daring. The two dresses tell the story of a woman navigating different versions of femininity that expectations of that time imposed.
Within her wardrobe, I found a flower girl dress my aunty wore, which shares a striking resemblance to a wedding dress. The all white dress also symbolises purity, which may be fitting for a young child, and the high neckline and long sleeves mirror modesty standards. This goes to show that even the smallest female body had the same rules. The length of both dresses also reveal the rules of this era, where women’s legs or even ankles weren’t allowed to be seen during such a public occasion.
And tucked quietly between the formal wear were my grandmother’s everyday clothes—a red and black set with a jacket. While there’s no ceremony attached to this outfit, it captures the elegance of her era’s “casual” wear. Even in day-to-day life, the careful tailoring and thoughtful design show the attention to style that defined her generation.
And finally, to end the day of a busy woman was a colourful collection of nightdresses, each paired with a matching dressing gown. Made from light-weight fabrics in soft pastels, these garments maintained a sense of femininity even at rest. A small detail, perhaps, but it reveals that a woman’s presentation mattered from morning to night.
Another famous garment many may remember is the corset. My mum recalls a time from her childhood where ‘being of a chubbier build my mother would encourage me to wear the “pancera” a revised Italian version of the corset that would cover the belly and extend over the thighs’. This made any dress she wore look slim, however it also meant she couldn’t breathe easily, move easily, or be comfortable at all. My mum says that sometimes she would choose to wear the “pancera” over being comfortable so that her physic looked socially acceptable, but the corset wasn’t just about looking a certain way, it was about embodying a certain kind of womanhood: disciplined and controlled. My mum found some positives to wearing it; ‘my posture was straight and l felt prim and proper with a style of elegance.’ Though what once represented a restrictive society has now become a choice, a familiar ritual as my grandmother still wears this today.
After hearing my grandmother’s story through her clothing, I’ve realised that every garment represents a moment in female history, and an underlying theme throughout is choice vs expectations. Our mothers’ wardrobes are museums of their journey, of female resilience and defiance. In holding these garments, I hold some of my grandmother’s most precious moments, ensuring that her stories are still remembered and passed down.
