Love Mother Love Daughter by Ellen Frazer-Jameson

Author:Ellen Frazer-Jameson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ellen Frazer-Jameson
Published: 2015-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

chapter nineteen

‘For aught that I could ever read, could ever hear by tale or history,

The course of true love never did run smooth.’

Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Julianne paced around her bedroom. The four walls now felt like a cage. For the hundredth time she checked her phone. No messages. In an attempt to get some order into her befuddled head, she decided to rearrange the clothes in her double-mirrored wardrobe. She had to do something. Anything. First she sorted all the skirts, colour coding them from light to dark, even though they had already been in order when she started, now she refined the process more and more, culling clothes as she went. I must ask Maria if there is a charity shop where I can pass on these clothes, she told herself.

In London she had always recycled her clothes, there were some excellent vintage designer shops in the Kensington area, and it made her feel virtuous that even if she would not wear last year’s fashion some other customer would get pleasure from her extravagant designer cast offs.

Examining necks and cuffs, she checked for missing buttons, signs of wear or spots or marks. Each item was assigned a padded hanger, also colour coded. She tried to implement the two inch rule inspired by the designer, Giorgio Armani, whereby all clothes on rails had to have two inches breathing space between them. No piece of clothing must touch its partner.

Each was to claim its own space following a flow line of ascending colour – from light to dark – summer to winter – day to evening – inner wear to outer. Julianne sorted and organised – drilling her wardrobe like a military parade. Sleeveless T-shirts, long-sleeved blouses, skirts, trousers, cardigans, jackets and coats. On a higher shelf, hats, handbags, beachwear.

The ordering calmed her mind temporarily. Next, she counted. Sleeveless T-shirts – fourteen – ranging in colour from snowy white to blackest black with pastel shades of blue, pink and citrus in between.

Next, long sleeved T-shirts and blouses – a dozen, mostly white with the occasional beige and of course, the ubiquitous black. Next on the carefully measured hangers – skirts. Six of these – two white, two beige, one navy, one black. Slacks – six also in the same colour ways as the skirts.

Even Julianne was impressed at how disciplined were her buying habits that every separate item in her wardrobe was in the correct colouring to co-ordinate with the corresponding items. No impulse purchase for her – no wild coloured prints – no loud checks. Julianne continued to sort and colour coordinate her wardrobe. This was one area of her life over which she had control. One area in which she could delight in a propensity to obsessive compulsive disorder.

She checked her phone again. Still no message. And why would he phone? Just how large did she figure in his life? Did she figure in his life at all?

Dresses on padded hangers were separated into day and evening wear. Jackets too were classified into casual daytime wear and more formal evening wear.

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