One quiet night a couple of weeks ago, I was pumping away on my sewing machine in my apartment in Bed-Stuy when my neighbor, Stephanie, knocked on my door to ask if I could hem a skirt for her. She took out a bag from Cookie’s, the children’s department store on Fulton Street, and proceeded to lay out all the makings of a Catholic school girl’s uniform: knee socks, hair ribbons, a pleated skirt in a girl’s size large.
Her explanation? The guy she was planning on seeing Saturday night had requested this particular getup for their rendezvous. Read the rest of this entry »
