My mother was the only daughter in the family and lived far away from home when she was a child. Although my grandparents did not prioritize their sons over their daughters, they were so busy making a living that they did not often take care of her clothing.
People say that what is lacking in childhood will be made up in adulthood, and so does my mother. She had a financial mind when she was young. If she hadn't become a housewife, I’d be sure she would have been a business tycoon. Because of the high salary and fine aesthetics, the clothes that my mother bought when she was 30 are still not out of date, so I often take them out and put them on.
Strange things happened. After this beautiful and excellent woman gave birth to a baby, she rarely bought herself new clothes. Like other stay-at-home mothers, she buys vegetables at the market, buys insurance for her family, buys new clothes for her child, and cooks delicious dinners for her husband. Nothing is really for her own.
Strange! It was as strange as a racehorse falling in love with plowing.
"Mum, what about you?"
This is the only question I had for her every time I walked out of the mall as a little girl.
"I’ll see if there are some clothes that fit me next time."
This is the only answer my mother gave every time she walked out of the mall. And, with her bag, full of new clothes for me and my father, when we got home, my father has already come back from work and sat on the sofa watching the news.
"Dad! Mum bought us a lot of beautiful new clothes today." I turned into a whirlwind of excitement, swept across the hallway quickly, stood in front of my father, and showed him the new clothes I had already put on.
"It's so beautiful! This dress makes my daughter look slender." my father would always give sincere compliments that did not match his usual image of a strict father at this time.
"The clothes fit me perfectly, and the color suits me well. The fabric is very comfortable. As expected, my wife bought it." When my father got his new clothes, he laughed, but he didn't forget to ask about the price, "These garments..."
"Due to the discount, I bought two more clothes for you, and they didn't cost much." Mum explained aside and stopped his words in time. When she talks about prices, she is as cautious as a company accountant encounters a tax audit.
I knew my dad wouldn't care about the cost of buying me clothes.
But my mum would.
She would bargain coriander for one yuan in the market. She will save every shopping bag worth fifty cents from the supermarket. She will buy a thousand-yuan suit for her husband. And, she would spend thousands of yuan to buy a computer for her daughter.
"We both have new clothes. What about you?" Dad asked.
"I've done foreign clothes trade before, so I know what clothes are suitable for me, and I just haven't come across clothes that I want." My mother used a new reason to prevaricate us this time.
But maybe it was our inquiries that annoyed her, or maybe it was her desire for beauty reborn, she mysteriously moved a large box into her territory a few weeks later (yes, the storage room).
It was a sewing machine. A modern kid savvy with online shopping had found this secret from a cardboard box next to the trash downstairs.
My mother is innovative. When I was a child, the holes in the clothes burned by the fireworks were embroidered with cute flowers and bear needlework by my mother, which my friends envied for years.
Finally! Has this woman awakened? What kind of fabric will she choose? Striped, floral, or solid? Will she make a dress? At this moment, I felt like Sherlock Holmes, full of curiosity.
But I didn't want to explore this secret directly, because I knew that as soon as I opened my mouth, the first garment produced by this sewing machine would not be for herself. Jesus! Give this woman some freedom and privacy!
I secretly observed every move in this woman's life, but, to my disappointment, never did a piece of cloth enter the storage room through those hands full of vegetables and fruits.
Just when I thought that machine was going to be dusty forever, a miracle happened.
On the eve of my mother's birthday, when we discussed which restaurant we should book for the celebration, my mother suddenly asked me mysteriously: "Do you want to see the new dress I made?"
New dress? Having never seen a single piece of cloth, I even thought this woman was crazy. And produced a dress out of thin air? Is she the fairy godmother? I nodded quickly, "Yes! Yes. Show me, show me the dress!"
I saw her take out a blue-and-white mulberry silk dress and gestured in front of herself, "Does it look good? How about if I wore this tomorrow?"
Weird. So weird! How does this dress fit her so well? No! The point is, where did the fabric of this dress come from? I carefully observed the dress - It’s not new, I could tell by the creases.
“So where did you get the dress?”
"Secret! I'll wear it tomorrow." Mum walked back to the bedroom with the dress happily.
After her birthday, Mom never mentioned the dress again, and no new clothes were born from the storage room. The fairy godmother failed?
Just when I was wondering, the family's annual "sharing day" arrived. Chinese people probably have a tradition that the clothes their children can't wear shall be disinfected and cleaned and then given to the children of all the extended relatives to avoid waste. We could call it a virtue.
This is the day of the year when I rummage through old clothes and need to pick the "lucky ones" out of a bunch of favorites to pack for my cousins. God knows I love each and every one of them. I can even tell the number of rhinestones on my favorite clothes!
But wait, where are my blue silk shirt and white dress?
A dress? A dress! Her dress. The fairy godmother just turned what was mine into hers, something prettier.
Looking at piles of clothes that I hadn't worn many times, I started hating them for the first time. Yes, she deserves it. But she deserves better.