The Denim Dilemma

My Mother’s Denim Dilemma

My mother, Bernyce Smith Gates, remains dear friends with many people, most of whom are much younger than her 93 years. Yet she has found herself in a conflicting conundrum.

Recently, she engaged in a conversation with her great-niece, Joni Gates Murphy, about Mother’s conflicting conundrum over denim. Mother loves her nieces, great nieces, and her great-great nieces and her younger trendy relatives, but she doesn’t understand purchasing denim jeans with rips and tears - not from a thrift shop but from an upscale retailer! Joni confessed to owning jeans like this but adamantly told Mother that she knew her father, Steven Glenn Gates would despise these new-fangled jeans and wholeheartedly agree with his aunt. 

Mother fishing on top of Grand Mesa in
August of 1954. Ronnie Rice and my
grandpa, Calvin Callcayah Smith are
 fishing in the background. Ronnie's
family, my parents, and grandparents
were vacationing together in Colorado.
This is one of the few photos of Mother
 in jeans. She only wears jeans when
fishing and working outside. She
mentioned to me that she never
liked the feel of denim fabric.

As she and Joni visited, Mother explained when she was a child in the 1930s, most men and their wives had no choice. My maternal grandma, Gladys Rainey Smith, related that everyone on the streets of Fairfax had patches during the Great Depression. This meant the residents of Osage County had tears in their clothes but no skin exposed. Most men in the Big Bend in that era wore overalls, but no respectable wife would allow her man to appear in public with torn places in his overalls.

My dad, Edmund Gates, Jr., told how his mother, Mamie Tripp Gates, faithfully patched her boys’ overalls. At one time, Grandma Gates had five boys plus Grandpa Gates to keep their overalls free of holes. Dad bragged on his beloved mother’s resourcefulness with denim. He recalled how, when the overalls were beyond her patching recovery, Grandma cut the overtly-patched overalls apart and made makeshift coverings for her boys’ beds in the unheated bunk house where they slept each night. My mother has laughed that some overalls had so many layers of patches sewn onto them that the weight of the pair of overalls almost prevented the movement of the wearer!

Most of my father’s overalls, except his brand-new pair, had been patched by my mother. As products of the Great Depression, my parents saw eye-to-eye on patching holes in Dad’s overalls. Mother insisted the patched overalls only be used for work. She pulled out his brand-new pair to wear to town. When Dad went to town, even if to buy feed, Mother felt his appearance reflected on the type of wife she was - especially if Dad was going to the bank to see Bob (his banker and friend, Bob Clark). Dad delighted in teasing her that those patched overalls would ensure Bob approving the money he needed to borrow.

In early years, with my college degree and career in education, I assured Mother that I did not need to know how to patch denim. She never questioned me. Boy, did my words fly back, with force, into my face! Upon Dad’s death, I inherited some of his overalls. Somehow, barbed wire tore a very small hole in the leg of the pair of overalls. The winter weather worsened. Even with long thermal underwear, I zipped back into the house, telling Mother how the frigid cold came through that small hole with a vengeance.

I requested she walk me through how to patch that hole in the overalls. Sewing my own clothes used to be the norm for me in high school and even college. During my financially-lean early days of teaching, one gift for my sister was a faux fur coat constructed by me, but I was much more pleased with that small hole’s patch than any other sewing product I had ever produced. That tiny patch made a great difference in my comfort when I was out in the bitter cold and windy weather.

My first patch - This patch would win no prizes,
but it sure keeps out the cold! This is one more
example of doing something I thought I would
 never need to know how to do. I think I have
 finally learned NOT to proclaim what I won't do.

Reflecting on Mother’s denim dilemma reminds me the emphasis should never be on the outward appearance. The operative word emphasis insists the importance remains the inner person, but never to the point that we disregard our outward appearance. Our clothes, hair, or accessories should not be neglected -just not our primary or major goal. Instead obey Peter’s instruction in his first letter, in chapter 3, verse 3 –

Be beautiful inside, in your hearts,
With the lasting charm
Of a gentle and quiet spirit
That is so precious to God.