Constance Makes a Plan
Constance Reynolds was a hairdresser in the metropolis of Lubbock, Texas, and a mighty fine one at that. She’d taken classes at the “Miss Betty’s School of Etiquette and Beauty” after high school (having graduated at 16), and by the end of her 24 month education she had been able to pin curl and hot comb with the best of them. The problem with that was that in 1954, when she’d begun her career, absolutely no one was getting pin curls or hot combs. It was all heat sets, backcombing and bouffant. So, when she’d started her tenure at Miss Josies Curl up and Dye salon she’d had to really learn the trade to which she’d committed her life. She’d loved every minute of it, and Miss Josie had been a careful and patient teacher.
The next year she’d married Ed Taylor, and by the end of the third year she’d had her first child, a baby girl named Elizabeth. Two years later another baby girl, Cindy, had followed. Ed managed the local IGA grocery store. He was a forward thinking man and had no problem with Constance-who he called Connie even though she hated it-keeping her job while also raising the children. He wasn’t at all opposed to that second and rather large income that Connie brought into the home, as it enabled them to live a fine lifestyle which everyone assumed was due to him. The only thing Ed was picky about was keeping the fact that Connie out earned him two times over a secret. What self-respecting man could let that be known?
Constance didn’t really care how Ed wanted to portray the family finances. She was happy to spend her days applying hot oil treatments that fried the hair and then the deep conditioners that repaired the damage. By 1960
bleach blonde was the look, and Constance created the formula for the absolute picture perfect match to Marilyn Monroe. The blond bombshell was making Constance a very busy and very wealthy woman. Evenings were spent hosting card parties where aspic and fondue were the dishes of choice, and days were spent servicing the towns wealthiest clients and secretly squirreling away as much money as she could so that Ed would be none the wiser.
It was important that Constance always look her best, but the penchant the ladies of Lubbock had for bottled bleach began to take its toll on her wardrobe and therefore on her pocketbook. She needed to look stylish, but not ruin the fine clothes her fine income brought her, and she didn’t want to dip into her escape money to fund her outfits. So, she did what she did best; she created something. She took many of the finely embroidered pillowcases and bed sheets that she and Ed had been gifted with upon their wedding and transformed them into outfits that her clients declared “darling”. Most were made primarily from white cotton, so the bleach that hit them did no damage and rarely showed up. The tops were easy to pair with capris and ballet flats, and Constance remained looking like a fashion plate, no one the wiser that she as wearing a pillowcase.
In 1966 Miss Josie retired and offered to sell Constance the salon. She was shocked when Constance turned the offer down, but found another buyer quickly. Constance wanted nothing else tying her to this place, or the man with which she lived in it.
As times and styles changed Constance remained the best hair dresser in town. She could hot iron a teenager’s hair straight as a string and set the girls mothers hair for the week all in two hour’s time. And all the while, she saved.
When she first began saving, she’d simply done it in a shoe box that she kept at the top of her closet. But the longer it went on and the larger the savings grew she realized she needed a much better plan. Once a week Ed had to stay late at the IGA to do inventory, and it was on those days that Constance would drive over to the tiny town of Shallowater, 15 minutes away, to deposit her money into an account there in her maiden name. Married women couldn’t open an account in their own name, so when she’d gone to open the account in the first place she’d removed her ring and taken her birth certificate and, and conveniently forgot to mention her marriage. For the last 15 years she had been making weekly deposits into the account of Constance Reynolds, and this year, those deposits were finally going to be put to use.
Cindy graduated high school May 28, 1975 and headed off to Tulane University to study nursing. Elizabeth was already two years into her business degree at the University of Oklahoma. Both girls were grown, on their way to independence, and now so was Constance.
On June 1 Ed stayed late to do inventory at the IGA. That morning Constance drove to Shallowater and withdrew $75,000 in cash. She wrote three letters: one to each daughter, and one to Ed. To her daughters she explained how much she loved them, and that she would contact them when she was settled. To Ed she wrote “my name isn’t Connie” and left it pinned to a meatloaf in the refrigerator.
Then, Constance took her suitcase and her shiny new passport and drove the 5 hours and 13 minutes to the Dallas International Airport. There, she bought a one-way ticket to France.
Ed never was sure what happened to Constance. For the rest of his life his daughters swore they didn’t know either, though both of them eventually moved to Europe, which Ed found incredibly odd. Ed managed the IGA until he died.
And what happened to Constance? It’s hard to say, really. But, if you ever travel to Brittany and visit the fishing village of Le Conquet, make sure you stay for market day. We hear there is a lovely elderly woman whose booth is full of the most delightful clothing made from old linens, and at 84, still gives the best haircut in the world.
Constance Reynolds was a hairdresser in the metropolis of Lubbock, Texas, and a mighty fine one at that. She’d taken classes at the “Miss Betty’s School of Etiquette and Beauty” after high school (having graduated at 16), and by the end of her 24 month education she had been able to pin curl and hot comb with the best of them. The problem with that was that in 1954, when she’d begun her career, absolutely no one was getting pin curls or hot combs. It was all heat sets, backcombing and bouffant. So, when she’d started her tenure at Miss Josies Curl up and Dye salon she’d had to really learn the trade to which she’d committed her life. She’d loved every minute of it, and Miss Josie had been a careful and patient teacher.
The next year she’d married Ed Taylor, and by the end of the third year she’d had her first child, a baby girl named Elizabeth. Two years later another baby girl, Cindy, had followed. Ed managed the local IGA grocery store. He was a forward thinking man and had no problem with Constance-who he called Connie even though she hated it-keeping her job while also raising the children. He wasn’t at all opposed to that second and rather large income that Connie brought into the home, as it enabled them to live a fine lifestyle which everyone assumed was due to him. The only thing Ed was picky about was keeping the fact that Connie out earned him two times over a secret. What self-respecting man could let that be known?
Constance didn’t really care how Ed wanted to portray the family finances. She was happy to spend her days applying hot oil treatments that fried the hair and then the deep conditioners that repaired the damage. By 1960
bleach blonde was the look, and Constance created the formula for the absolute picture perfect match to Marilyn Monroe. The blond bombshell was making Constance a very busy and very wealthy woman. Evenings were spent hosting card parties where aspic and fondue were the dishes of choice, and days were spent servicing the towns wealthiest clients and secretly squirreling away as much money as she could so that Ed would be none the wiser.
It was important that Constance always look her best, but the penchant the ladies of Lubbock had for bottled bleach began to take its toll on her wardrobe and therefore on her pocketbook. She needed to look stylish, but not ruin the fine clothes her fine income brought her, and she didn’t want to dip into her escape money to fund her outfits. So, she did what she did best; she created something. She took many of the finely embroidered pillowcases and bed sheets that she and Ed had been gifted with upon their wedding and transformed them into outfits that her clients declared “darling”. Most were made primarily from white cotton, so the bleach that hit them did no damage and rarely showed up. The tops were easy to pair with capris and ballet flats, and Constance remained looking like a fashion plate, no one the wiser that she as wearing a pillowcase.
In 1966 Miss Josie retired and offered to sell Constance the salon. She was shocked when Constance turned the offer down, but found another buyer quickly. Constance wanted nothing else tying her to this place, or the man with which she lived in it.
As times and styles changed Constance remained the best hair dresser in town. She could hot iron a teenager’s hair straight as a string and set the girls mothers hair for the week all in two hour’s time. And all the while, she saved.
When she first began saving, she’d simply done it in a shoe box that she kept at the top of her closet. But the longer it went on and the larger the savings grew she realized she needed a much better plan. Once a week Ed had to stay late at the IGA to do inventory, and it was on those days that Constance would drive over to the tiny town of Shallowater, 15 minutes away, to deposit her money into an account there in her maiden name. Married women couldn’t open an account in their own name, so when she’d gone to open the account in the first place she’d removed her ring and taken her birth certificate and, and conveniently forgot to mention her marriage. For the last 15 years she had been making weekly deposits into the account of Constance Reynolds, and this year, those deposits were finally going to be put to use.
Cindy graduated high school May 28, 1975 and headed off to Tulane University to study nursing. Elizabeth was already two years into her business degree at the University of Oklahoma. Both girls were grown, on their way to independence, and now so was Constance.
On June 1 Ed stayed late to do inventory at the IGA. That morning Constance drove to Shallowater and withdrew $75,000 in cash. She wrote three letters: one to each daughter, and one to Ed. To her daughters she explained how much she loved them, and that she would contact them when she was settled. To Ed she wrote “my name isn’t Connie” and left it pinned to a meatloaf in the refrigerator.
Then, Constance took her suitcase and her shiny new passport and drove the 5 hours and 13 minutes to the Dallas International Airport. There, she bought a one-way ticket to France.
Ed never was sure what happened to Constance. For the rest of his life his daughters swore they didn’t know either, though both of them eventually moved to Europe, which Ed found incredibly odd. Ed managed the IGA until he died.
And what happened to Constance? It’s hard to say, really. But, if you ever travel to Brittany and visit the fishing village of Le Conquet, make sure you stay for market day. We hear there is a lovely elderly woman whose booth is full of the most delightful clothing made from old linens, and at 84, still gives the best haircut in the world.
Constance Reynolds was a hairdresser in the metropolis of Lubbock, Texas, and a mighty fine one at that. She’d taken classes at the “Miss Betty’s School of Etiquette and Beauty” after high school (having graduated at 16), and by the end of her 24 month education she had been able to pin curl and hot comb with the best of them. The problem with that was that in 1954, when she’d begun her career, absolutely no one was getting pin curls or hot combs. It was all heat sets, backcombing and bouffant. So, when she’d started her tenure at Miss Josies Curl up and Dye salon she’d had to really learn the trade to which she’d committed her life. She’d loved every minute of it, and Miss Josie had been a careful and patient teacher.
The next year she’d married Ed Taylor, and by the end of the third year she’d had her first child, a baby girl named Elizabeth. Two years later another baby girl, Cindy, had followed. Ed managed the local IGA grocery store. He was a forward thinking man and had no problem with Constance-who he called Connie even though she hated it-keeping her job while also raising the children. He wasn’t at all opposed to that second and rather large income that Connie brought into the home, as it enabled them to live a fine lifestyle which everyone assumed was due to him. The only thing Ed was picky about was keeping the fact that Connie out earned him two times over a secret. What self-respecting man could let that be known?
Constance didn’t really care how Ed wanted to portray the family finances. She was happy to spend her days applying hot oil treatments that fried the hair and then the deep conditioners that repaired the damage. By 1960
bleach blonde was the look, and Constance created the formula for the absolute picture perfect match to Marilyn Monroe. The blond bombshell was making Constance a very busy and very wealthy woman. Evenings were spent hosting card parties where aspic and fondue were the dishes of choice, and days were spent servicing the towns wealthiest clients and secretly squirreling away as much money as she could so that Ed would be none the wiser.
It was important that Constance always look her best, but the penchant the ladies of Lubbock had for bottled bleach began to take its toll on her wardrobe and therefore on her pocketbook. She needed to look stylish, but not ruin the fine clothes her fine income brought her, and she didn’t want to dip into her escape money to fund her outfits. So, she did what she did best; she created something. She took many of the finely embroidered pillowcases and bed sheets that she and Ed had been gifted with upon their wedding and transformed them into outfits that her clients declared “darling”. Most were made primarily from white cotton, so the bleach that hit them did no damage and rarely showed up. The tops were easy to pair with capris and ballet flats, and Constance remained looking like a fashion plate, no one the wiser that she as wearing a pillowcase.
In 1966 Miss Josie retired and offered to sell Constance the salon. She was shocked when Constance turned the offer down, but found another buyer quickly. Constance wanted nothing else tying her to this place, or the man with which she lived in it.
As times and styles changed Constance remained the best hair dresser in town. She could hot iron a teenager’s hair straight as a string and set the girls mothers hair for the week all in two hour’s time. And all the while, she saved.
When she first began saving, she’d simply done it in a shoe box that she kept at the top of her closet. But the longer it went on and the larger the savings grew she realized she needed a much better plan. Once a week Ed had to stay late at the IGA to do inventory, and it was on those days that Constance would drive over to the tiny town of Shallowater, 15 minutes away, to deposit her money into an account there in her maiden name. Married women couldn’t open an account in their own name, so when she’d gone to open the account in the first place she’d removed her ring and taken her birth certificate and, and conveniently forgot to mention her marriage. For the last 15 years she had been making weekly deposits into the account of Constance Reynolds, and this year, those deposits were finally going to be put to use.
Cindy graduated high school May 28, 1975 and headed off to Tulane University to study nursing. Elizabeth was already two years into her business degree at the University of Oklahoma. Both girls were grown, on their way to independence, and now so was Constance.
On June 1 Ed stayed late to do inventory at the IGA. That morning Constance drove to Shallowater and withdrew $75,000 in cash. She wrote three letters: one to each daughter, and one to Ed. To her daughters she explained how much she loved them, and that she would contact them when she was settled. To Ed she wrote “my name isn’t Connie” and left it pinned to a meatloaf in the refrigerator.
Then, Constance took her suitcase and her shiny new passport and drove the 5 hours and 13 minutes to the Dallas International Airport. There, she bought a one-way ticket to France.
Ed never was sure what happened to Constance. For the rest of his life his daughters swore they didn’t know either, though both of them eventually moved to Europe, which Ed found incredibly odd. Ed managed the IGA until he died.
And what happened to Constance? It’s hard to say, really. But, if you ever travel to Brittany and visit the fishing village of Le Conquet, make sure you stay for market day. We hear there is a lovely elderly woman whose booth is full of the most delightful clothing made from old linens, and at 84, still gives the best haircut in the world.
This charming pull over is fashioned from a cotton pillowcase embroiered with bright cotton flowers and bobbin lace, along with a hand pieced quilt top. 100% handmade by the artist. Materials sourced in Arkansas
Measurement: Bust up to 38” Waist up to 38” Garment has no strecth
Care Instructions and General Information: This one of a kind blouse is fashioned from a linen that is approximately 60 years old. It should be hand washed and laid flat to dry. Ironing on high with starch will preserve crispness. Due to the age there may be minor discolorations or areas of wear commiserate with age. This is normal and to be considered as part of the beauty of the garment
No returns or exchanges due ot the one of a kind nature of the items