From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Tactile
I’m itching to hike up this drop-waisted hemline and dance, feeling the cool, slick rayon slide against my legs while I hum "Whispering" under my breath. Ma is all in a lather about the suffragists in Chicago, but I’m just trying to keep my bobbed hair tucked tight under this wool cloche before I sneak out to the picture show. I had to swipe **$0.11** from the kitchen jar—the same pittance she spends on a loaf of bread—just so I could feel like some **big cheese** at the confectionery. My fingers are still stained red from clutching my new Raggedy Andy, his rough cotton limbs a far cry from the beaded silk I’m dying to wear tonight.