It’s been unseasonably warm so far here this Autumn, here in Herefordshire. There has been little need to dig out the scarves and gloves yet, apart from the odd cold day or two. But as we move into late Autumn and cross into Winter, it is just a matter of time before those frosty mornings hit. Personally I can’t wait for a colder reprieve after a long, hot summer. Bright winter skies are beautiful, although the same can’t be said for the heating bill. With the arrival of chillier temperatures, it becomes time to pull on our winter coats, who have been patiently waiting for their time to shine again.
If you are anything like me, and not at all the type of person who clears things out before putting them away, then you may be in for a surprise when you don that thick jacket. As you shrug on the heavy fabric - remembering that button you need to sew back on - you’ll sink your hands into the cosy pockets and strike gold. Your fingers will grace forgotten treasures of last year's winter, moments of a time gone before. Pockets are little time stamps, capturing memories and moments. Sure, it's not all glamorous, there is probably a tissue or two - yuck - and perhaps a few receipts. But every now and then there's a shape, familiar to your hands but not your mind, that you feel compelled to pull out. For me this was last year's conkers, smooth jewels of gleaming copper, gifted to me by my children.
My coat was doubly generous due to a hole in the lining, adjacent to the pocket. No, I do not practise what I preach, my mending list is very long! This extra large pocket, which extends into the entire lining of the coat, has proved particularly useful at times for carrying those large items, such as a purse or notepad, without the need for a bag. Due to its size it also presented a whole new batch of larger treasures, flyers from exhibitions, shopping lists and more receipts. Perhaps by most these would be considered unimportant, but I like to marvel at the moments preserved there. Remembering details from a time that I would otherwise not be able to recall clearly. That artist whose work I liked but name has escaped me, what dinners looked like in February, the parcels I posted to America . The minutiae of daily life that fades into the tapestry of life.
Pockets are a privilege, especially as a woman. They have long been a feminist issue, drafted out of patterns and made unavailable to us. We all know the struggle of finding those perfect jeans, only to realise the pockets are simply for show. They do not open. Or, if you are lucky enough to find a garment with real pockets, they are unbearably small with just enough room for your keys but not your phone or other essentials.
This struggle was not always the case. Originating in the form of bags tied around our waists in the Middle Ages, men’s and women’s pockets were once equal. But the pocket has been through many transformations in appearance and size. After becoming accessed through slits in our clothes, around the 17th Century bags were eventually sewn into garments, becoming what we now know as the pocket. Unfortunately for women, due to the many layers of petticoats and clothes they wore, this was less convenient than a bag. They may have had pockets, but they were unreachable. This was considered of no issue, after all what possessions did a woman need to carry round. Best leave all that to the men. The inequality of men and women was in stark contrast.
Over time the pocket has become a symbol of women's freedom. A suffragette suit had a rebellious six pockets, and the early 20th Century bought many changes to women’s rights. The first and second world wars catalysed the functional need for women to have pockets. Now they were working in the fields and factories, necessity dictated the matter. But as soon as the wars faded away, women were back to dresses and their access to pockets once again declined. The last forty years or so may have seen some improvement, but as we know all too well, good pockets are still hard to come by.
So I do not take the pockets in my life and their contents for granted. I relish the moments of finding treasures in them. My favourite pockets are in a cosy, ginger cardigan of mine. They are deep and the nature of the knitted fabric allows them the stretch significantly. Perfect for gathering apples and windfall gifts in the autumn. Or collecting leaves, sticks and other outside mementos during long walks. The pocket is an anthropological goldmine, it contains so many of life’s details, throughout the seasons of our lives. A miniature museum of sorts. Do you store items in your pockets? I’d love know the contents of yours, however boring or mundane!
A last thought….
This post feels rather vulnerable, admitting the messy contents of my pocket. If you are the type of person who empties their pockets after each trip out then I can only marvel at your organisation and diligence. If you think that my pockets sound bad, then I would not recommend inquiring about my handbag!
Keep connecting,
Millie.
My pockets are handy for everything from spare balls to toss to my dog to my landscaping hand
tools. More pockets equals more likelihood that I will purchase a garment.
My favorite pockets are the ones I find a missing $5.00 bill in!!