A Bag of Ribbons

In the course of my life, I have held a long list of occupations. A variety of jobs to keep a roof overhead in order to continue my creative pursuits.

Back in the 1980s, I worked with a number of temporary employment agencies and held a variety of office jobs. Initially they were jobs that didn’t require typing. I was forced to take a mandatory typing class in 8th grade from a severe-looking, no-nonsense teacher, but it didn’t take. I thought it was boring and when was I ever going to use that skill(!)?

Most of the non-typing jobs involved answering phones, a bit of filing, sending faxes, making xerox copies. Later on I learned proofreading, re-learned typing and learned word processing, which made more money and led to a few semi-permanent jobs along the way.

But the receptionist/semi-secretary jobs landed me in some interesting places: the Metropolitan Museum, a wide variety of doctor’s offices (when at one of them, a secretary gave me a doctor’s coat so I could use it in a performance), the drug rehab unit of a psychiatric hospital.

One of the most charming places where I worked unexpectedly appeared in my mind today as a memory flowed through.

To set the scene, getting dressed to go to a day job was really a chore. I didn’t really have corporate clothing. I was used to working at retail stores where they encouraged us to wear wild clothing. I got a couple of black skirts at a cheapo place like Rainbow, and shoes at Payless (one of my fave stores, but some of those cheap, fun shoes are uncomfortable). Blouse? I have no idea what I did, I think I wore a turtleneck and then a blazer over that. I had purple and red streaks in my hair, so I covered those with a headband. Pantyhose? Only had black of course. Everything was wrinkled cause I hated ironing, but it would have to do.

I wish I could remember the name of the place, perhaps if I try not to think about it, the name will eventually appear. I didn’t realize til I got there that it was a small shop that sold only ribbons. I didn’t see the full array till later on, as most were in a back room, but what a sweet place to spend a day. The store was run by a lovely older man in a light gray suit. The phones weren’t very busy, so I was glad I had brought a book.

At the end of my shift, as I was getting my time card signed, the kind older man came towards me and handed me a pair of shears, and a bag. “Take whatever ribbons you want!” he said. He opened the door to the magical back room, which was a treasure trove!

Now, these were not your cheap gift wrapping-type ribbons that you see today. These were beautiful old-school ribbons that you could sew onto clothing, or wear in your hair, or of course use to make gift wrapping extra special. They were all made out of high-quality, sturdy, beautiful fabric. Every width, color, texture one could imagine. Beautiful shiny satin ribbons in all widths, some in solid colors and some with lovely paisley patterns, thin ribbons of all kinds and colors of fabric, ribbons of translucent fabric with little lines of sparkly thread running through. Ribbons with little flowers sewn on them. Thin fabric, thick fabric, shiny, matte, solids, stripes, checkers, polka dots, little stars. The ribbons that stick in my mind most are the beautiful embroidered ribbons in rich colors. The embroidered kind of ribbons that some of us sewed around the cuffs, along the pockets or along the side of our jeans back in the day. The embroidered burgundy ribbon particularly stays in my mind. That ribbon I just kept, rather than using it on something, because it felt too nice to use. Nothing was made of cheap fabric that falls apart. With the combo of too much coffee, not enough sleep and the overwhelm of all these beautiful ribbons, I started to feel a little dizzy!

The man smiled as I slowly took some different ribbons. I would ask him, are you sure I can take some of this one or that one? Even this fancy one? Oh yes.

I ended up with a medium sized bag filled with ribbons of all widths, textures, colors, fabrics. It seemed enough for a lifetime.

And indeed, all these decades later, somewhere in the archaeological dig that is my studio, I still have the bag and some of the ribbons. I tried to find it for this post, but so far am unsuccessful in doing that:) But in my mind, I still hold the image of the burgundy colored embroidered ribbon. And the smile on the face of the lovely, kind man who knew he made my day.

In the comments please share about an unusual job you may have had.

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