journal prompt 4 // silk

Jane
Silk. Satin. Silk. Blue satin sashes. I've heard silk pillowcases are most gentle and best for the delicate skin of one's face, but I've never had a silk pillowcase. Come to think of it, I don't think I have ever owned anything silk. My mother's wedding dress was silk, or satin. What is the difference? The dress is still in her closet, and I tried it on a few years ago. That must be a strange feeling, to see your daughter in your own wedding dress. It has a Victorian collar and puff sleeves, a huge bow at the base of the thin line of pearl buttons trailing down the back.
In high school I tried on a wedding gown as I shopped for a prom dress. It had a sweetheart neckline and the fabric pulled around my waist and fell to the ground in heavy, but lovely ripples. My mother cried a little when I stood on the platform to look at myself in the mirror.
That dress wasn't silk though. My aunt says silk reminds her of Mr. Darcy's sheets -- now that is quite enchanting. He was rich and it was England, so they must have had soft, creamy silk sheets. Imagine that. Waking up wrapped in silk with the summer breeze blowing long white curtains through the open window. A vase of wildflowers on the nightstand.


Harley
I know that silk is expensive. I know that I own one silk skirt, but I never wear it for fear of ruining it. I know I had a silk dress for one of my high school dances. It was a dark forest green. A short dress that hit just below my knees. I felt a little bit like royalty when I was wearing it. It had beautiful chiffon sleeves that flowed when I walked. Finding dresses for school dances was always something of a nightmare. I wouldn't wear sparkles. I could never find one that was the right length. The budget was generally small. This dress was an exception.

I was dating Jon at the time. He was Hawaiian. He came to pick me up at my house. I was 16 and excited for my first corsage. Only it wasn't a corsage. Jon had made me a homemade laie out of pink carnations. A sweet gesture in retrospect, but at the time I could only think of how mortified I was. My green silk mermaid dress accompanied by an obviously homemade necklace of carnations. Pink carnations. I didn't like pink.

I played nice. Told him it was pretty. He took me to dinner at a friends house where his mom cooked for us. I spilled soup all over my green dress. Silk can only be dry cleaned so there was nothing I could do except "enjoy" the remainder of my evening in my soup stained dress. People pretended not to notice.

After the dance I came home took off the dress and hid it in the back of my closet. It still hasn't been dry cleaned to this day.