My paternal grandmother, Nellie, took me shopping at the Hudson Bay Company to find a new crinoline for my dress. I remember being awestruck by the layers of stiff, starched white netting of the crinoline she bought me and how the fabric spread out and stood up like a mushroom cap.
My grandmother often wore a fox fur draped over her shoulders when she went out. She’d brought it with her from Vienna when she emigrated to Canada earlier in the fifties. She looked resplendent and commanded attention.