Our Coats of Many Colors Comes to My Rescue

I didn't grow up Catholic. I converted a year before I got married and two years before I became a mother. I had studied the theology pretty intensely for the two years before my conversion, but as a new Catholic, I was clueless about many of the cultural traditions (small-t "traditions" as opposed to capital-T "Sacred Tradition," which is kind of a big deal in Catholicism).

All Saints' Day celebrations, for instance. I knew Halloween; I had a very good handle on Halloween. Halloween was one of the three best days of the year when I was a kid. And I'd read enough history to know the roots of jack-o'-lanterns and trick-or-treating; I knew the name came from All Hallows' Eve (or Even, E'en), which is the night before the feast of All Hallows, or All Saints. Okay, so far, so good: I grokked that All Saints' Day was something pretty special in the Church calendar—a rather splendid notion, actually, this setting aside of one day of the year to honor all the heroic folks who have made it to heaven.

What threw me for a loop was the way All Saints' celebrations necessitated coming up with a second costume for each of my children, the day after Halloween. Because, you know, none of my kids have ever wanted to be the same thing for Halloween and All Saints. On All Saints, obviously, you dress up as one of the saints. Halloween is when you get to indulge your desire to be an elfin princess, or Wendy from Peter Pan, or a girl in colonial garb, or a kitty cat. (Seems like there's always one kid who wants to be a kitty cat.)

Halloween costumes have never been my strong point. For Jane's first Halloween (she was all of four months old), we were invited to an office party at HarperCollins, where a whole crop of new babies belonging to current and former employees were going to appear in adorable garb to be oohed and ahhed over. I had weeks to plan something creative and meltingly awesome, but I drew a blank. At the last minute, I put together a rather desperate ensemble: dark blue baby sweat pants, a white baby turtleneck, a brown stocking cap, and (brace yourself), one of Scott's brown socks folded in upon itself and secured at Jane's little tiny knee, with the blue pants tucked in. This, you see, was supposed to be a wooden leg, and Jane was an old sailor. I fashioned her a wee black eye-patch out of construction paper and a shoelace, but that turned into a chew toy after about six seconds.

Pathetic, I know. There she was among all the chubby little pumpkins and pods of peas and fluffy bunnies, a rugged old salt with a floppy wooden leg, with wads of soggy black paper stuck to her chin.

I really haven't improved much since that day, and it has been a relief to have my children grow old enough to make their own costumes. But still: two costumes, two days apart, for five children—it's a pretty tall order. (Okay, I have yet to bother providing All Saints costumes for my two youngest children, and for Halloween the youngest child in our family always wears the amazing and super-adorable zebra costume my sister made for Jane's second Halloween—taking pity on the poor child, no doubt.)

But this year: listen to my enormous sigh of relief. Here it is three weeks before the Big Days, and we are well on our way—thanks to the gorgeous handiwork of the talented seamstress behind the scenes of Our Coats of Many Colors. We were asked if we'd like to check out a few of her costumes for a look-see, and I said yes quicker than you can say "pathetic old sailor costume."

The St. Brigid of Ireland costume is my favorite, and not just because she's my confirmation name-saint. I love the deep-green hooded cloak and the Celtic knots on the gown's trim. Jane was ecstatic: this lovely creation will double as a Lord of the Rings-style costume for Halloween. She'd better enjoy it while she can because now that she's catching up to me in height, I'm pretty sure this gown would fit me too, if I weren't seven months pregnant. I know what I'm wearing to next year's Comic-Con.

I jest. I'll be toting an infant by then. I'll need the nursing version of this dress.

Rose's patron saint is St. Catherine of Siena, so that's the other costume we requested. She loves it. I foresee many an All Saints' celebration featuring a Peterson in a habit.

You know I have much envy admiration for people who can sew well. I'm really impressed with how well made these costumes are. The fabric is good quality, the detailing is superb, and I can tell the costumes will hold up to the years of dress-up games and celebrations in their future.

So that's two kids down, three to go. I'm thinking Rilla would make an adorable Crusty Old Sailor, if only I can find Scott's brown sock.

Comments

[sarah]

No, don't do it to her. No crusty sailor costume. I am cracking up right now. Rose's Wendy costume a few years back was my favorite, bedroom slippers and all. Let her come up with something. Hugs--Sarah

[Emma]

They are beautiful - and how lucky you are that you can afford them. I can't help but wonder how other children whose parents cannot pay these hight prices feel next to these luxurious saints! Somehow it just doesn't seem right to spend so much on a fancy outfit to wear on a single day when there are people who have no homes, no food, no jobs.

[Emma]

They are beautiful - and how lucky you are that you can afford them. I can't help but wonder how other children whose parents cannot pay these hight prices feel next to these luxurious saints! Somehow it just doesn't seem right to spend so much on a fancy outfit to wear on a single day when there are people who have no homes, no food, no jobs.

[Melissa Wiley]

Oh, ready-made costumes aren't in our budget this year either. You'll note I said we were given some of the costumes for a look-see, and I was all too happy to accept. :) And I was happy, too, to be able to give a bit of exposure to a hardworking mother of many. Just because her costumes don't fit *everyone's* budget doesn't mean they won't fit *anyone's*, and in spreading the word of her business, I am happily doing my bit to support cottage industry.

And as for "it not seeming right to spend so much on a costume" when others are out of work, etc--well, I think you're getting into pretty tricky territory when you start criticizing how other people choose to spend their income. These costumes, for example, are extremely well made (I would not have given a positive review if I didn't mean it, and I stand by every word of my praise), and will be enjoyed by a whole tribe of children, both in my own family and among our friends, far more than "on a single day." Some families, adding up the cost, might consider the investment worthwhile--just as my family tends to 'invest' our money in the books we treasure. And in doing so, we're helping to support other writers and publishing house employees. As writers ourselves, I know how deeply appreciated those rare royalty checks can be.

Furthermore, it's very important when passing judgment upon other people's spending decisions to consider that their may be many extenuating factors in their private lives which might justify purchases that seem frivolous to others. My own family has endured many periods of extended hospital stays and other medical crises, and during those times of our life we spent an amount on take-out food that horrified me then and staggers me now in hindsight. We were coping as best we could, and those overpriced hospital Au Bon Pain meals were a necessary evil, at that time.