When I was a girl, my Ma (pronounced "Maw") used to wear what she called "house dresses." These were usually belted shirtwaists - the kind that June Cleaver and Donna Reed wore. What it meant was any dress suitable for wearing around the house, as opposed to something one might wear to go downtown or to the doctor's office, say.
The house dresses would always be accompanied by stockings with garters, and shoes with a heel of no less than three inches in height. She was exactly five feet tall, which killed her to admit, so unless it was bedtime and slippers were appropriate, she would be wearing heels. She made sure she was put together every day and made an effort to look nice.
Since she was short but wide, she was hard to fit. For instance, she couldn't just go to Sears and buy a dress off the rack. Everything would have to be altered. There was one exception: her favorite dress store, Shumacher's in the Dutchtown neighborhood of St. Louis. Shumacher carried petite dresses and always had something she could find in her size that looked nice as well as actually fit her, with no alterations needed.
Years went by, the neighborhood changed, and by the time I was in high school, Shumacher's had closed. Instantly, my Ma became more casual. She still wore house dresses, but rarely would it be an actual dress, unless she expected company or had somewhere to go that day. Most of the time it was a nightgown, and a lot of the time it was the kind of nightgown with snaps down the front. I know you've seen them on various old ladies. They can be had at Walmart for about $12.
Since I got home from the hospital, I've been wearing "house dresses." Not the June Cleaver type dresses, I mean the kind with snaps down the front. This is my morning routine: Get up, take a shower, put on a fresh nightgown. Dammit.
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