When I was a child, I had a dressing gown that used to belong to my sister. My sister is 12 years older than me and when she grew too old and tall for it, I said I wanted it. I then wore it for years until it was literally a rag. I remember it, it was cobalt blue.
When I finally got rid of it, it was so short, threadbare and covered in weird rips and a Coke patch that I had GLUED on !
Classy.
I loved that dressing gown and I was always rather proud that we got so much wear out of it, as when my parents bought it for Donna in the early 70s, it was very expensive.
So, it's not without a big smile that I see our daughter is doing the same thing. She has a dressing gown that we bought for her when she was still quite a bald little thing. At that time it fitted perfectly.
I did mention that perhaps she might like to wear the other dressing gown we have for her that fits, a sort of Obi-Wan Kenobi affair, with sexy pagan hood.
But no. She will not part with her hot pink and butterfly detailed " gissy ".
Her arms dangle from the cuffs like Oliver Twist ( before he became wealthy ) it's practically waist length, instead of ankle length, but she will not part with it.
Dammnit, I'm proud !
