Father's Day 1967. Do the math. My dad died at 70, younger than my husband is now. I find that so weird to contemplate.
Dad wasn't much of a drinker; I vaguely recall that this hip flask was intended as a joke. The bottle of Jade East aftershave was the "real" present.
Like my dress? Betcha couldn't tell (ha) I made it myself. The hexagons were kelly green, and the ribbon was green velvet. I still remember the feel of that sleazy polyester.
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