My girl, the first born into my side of the family since me, turned three last Sunday. To celebrate the occasion, my Mom made—as she has every year since L was born—a birthday dress. I love this tradition not only because the dresses are made with such love and care but because I like to think of each as an artifact. A physical representation of each year in her childhood, and in her life. It makes me happy to know that as she wears—and grows out of—each one, it becomes embedded with memories. Someday I’ll excavate photos of me in my birthday dresses (made by Mom, of course) to share with her.
Dress 3 join the ranks of dresses 1 and 2: