Maria Rosaria Solla do not pack that heavy dark wool skirt. Do you want people to think you are a contadina?
I am a contadina and the skirt is warm.
Thank you for the skirt. I am taking it right now and you are packing the colorful dress. Now, on the ship you will look like a proper lady.
BAD ADVICE!
As we read Cunard’s Queen Mary 2 dress code, I panicked. “What to Wear: Smart Attire.” I’ve got two advanced degrees but my clothes ain’t necessarily smart. Reading more, I knew I wasn’t going to look like a proper lady going to the ball. They have black tie fancy dress dinners and parties on board! All my fancy duds and summer clothes are in Pontelandolfo. In New Jersey, Bluefish style winter artsy fartsy is my fashion statement. I ran out and bought a $26 black dress at Marshalls, packed my silky scarves, bijoux and bling jewelry and hoped for the best.
Maria Rosaria hoped for the best too. Sadly, as I was told by her and Aunt Cat, hope was not enough. Crossing the Atlantic Ocean in steerage was freaking cold. According to Aunt Cat:
On the ship it was so cold mamma couldn’t stop shaking. She didn’t have anything heavy to wear. I hate that lady who took her warm clothes.
Mamma was shivering and had a fever. She just stayed in the bed – we were all way down in the bottom of the ship – hundreds of us. My brother Nick, Sal and me – mamma was so sick – we were kids. We didn’t know what to do. An old man felt sorry for mamma and took care of her. He got coats from the other men and piled them on her. Somehow she lived.
My lack of stylish summer clothing was not a problem. The Atlantic Ocean breezes are cold. My linen long sleeved ensembles and scarves were just right. And, frankly, we only went outside on deck for brief walks. The interior of the Queen Mary 2 is not only well appointed but temperature controlled.
The fancy dress parties were not even on the radar for my grandmother. Steerage tickets didn’t entitle voyagers to much.
Saturday night was Cunard’s Red and Gold black tie event. I felt perfectly fine in black palazzos, black silk top and huge hand painted silk wrap. Bejeweled handmade creations from Lambertville put the icing on my dress cake. As we sat in one of the upscale bars listening to a harpist, Jack said, “ Why didn’t you tell me it would be black tie. I didn’t even pack a tie.” Sigh…
Ci vediamo.
PS: check out Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo. Still spots left for September.
Nonna's Mulberry Tree 