I want to “return” to the story about Mama in this one-room apartment. All the same it was hardest for her. I have already written that she finished the technical school of light industry in Moscow, she sewed excellently, but, arriving in Kiev, she did not at once find work in her specialty and, of course, she had to earn extra, take orders and not only orders! She completely “clothed” us, two girls! After all in Soviet shops there was practically nothing! But there were fabrics. Mama knew how to buy and measure so much fabric that there would be no leftovers and it turned out, of course, housewifely, profitable.
But how she “managed” to sew and live in one room is beyond comprehension! This craft of hers was good for everyone, but bad for herself. It turned out that she was always under strain. Even when she went to Moscow to her parents, Grandmother at once gave her a sewing assignment and she had no chance at all to go to the theatre or meet girlfriends.
For example I will tell how she remade a coat. Formerly they used very high-quality natural all-wool fabrics. I remember their names: drap, ratin, boston. There was such an old expression “to get a coat,” that is to buy or order one sewn at an atelier. And a coat was considered a good acquisition. And they wore it a long time. And then they also remade it for someone in the family or “turned it.” That word too is not used in modern language. In that word a huge volume of work is hidden.
I can list what the craftswomen did with old coats. First one had to unpick the coat with a straight razor or a blade, then wash the pieces, dry them and decatise them, that is stand-steam them with a heavy iron. The iron weighed 5 kg. After that the pieces of fabric acquired their original look and were ready for cutting, and the reverse side of the coat could become the face. That is what was called turning. Arriving on holiday in the Moscow region, they loaded my mama with this.
There was a period in her life, before she got this khrushchoba, when she fell seriously ill on nervous grounds. It showed itself as shortness of breath — she could not take a breath! (after all we don’t notice how we breathe.) And for her, in order to take a breath, she had to lean on the table with both hands. I remember she went to Podol to a water-cure clinic. Then this state of hers passed. Once she was sitting in the queue at the water-cure clinic and got talking with a young man about her “illness.” And he gave her the advice “not to tell anyone about it” and your illness will pass. And so it happened as he said!
To be continued….