Remember where you were when President Kennedy was shot? Remember what you were wearing?
The morning of November 22, 1963, I wore a pair of lime-green culottes fresh from the grips of my mother’s Singer. Miniskirts hadn’t arrived yet, but culottes had.
That morning, because of a cool weather forecast, the first lady wore a pink, wool Chanel suit and her signature pill box hat. But Dallas was hot that afternoon as the motorcade traveled down Elm Street.
This day was the last page of an era. Emily Post’s laws of etiquette may have delivered well-needed structure to a world torn apart by war, but seemed too confining for the new casual “family rooms” popping up in houses across the country.
McCarthyism had died a rightful death, and a commission to the president on equal rights for women unearthed widespread discrimination of women, a major step toward workplace equality. Read more »