Robe Redux

Rolled in a ball in the depths of a big box in the back of the attic,

I found the matching robes.

They were lovingly stitched by hand back before the American Girl Doll Empire was formed. She knew how much I doted on my beloved "Cindy", and decided to piece together a matching ensemble. No doubt I sent my kind great-grandma a thank you note I had handmade, with flimsy white paper paired with equally flimsy floral cutouts from the Royer's Spring Seed Catalog.

Fast-forward thirty years (and a few less buttons), and here I am with a daughter who is happily posing just like her mama did in the same matching robe ensemble. I do not know what this doll's name is (probably "Caroline", as that is the name of choice for all their dolls), but I do know she has survived countless hair washings in the tub, and most of her dollhood has been spent with her heavily saturated body hanging by her neck on the bathtub towel rack, drip drying. This was probably the best day of her doll life. Look how bright her eyes look, bless her little heart. Both the real and fake little girl seem delighted.

None of my children look like my "mini-me", and therefore when given the rare opportunity to dress one up in my old clothes and have stand in a similar pose (albeit a tad more severe head tilt), I will shamelessly take it, have fun with it and blog about it.