You can tell a lot about a person by their favorite outfit. A week ago, I probably would have told you that my favorite outfit was this little black cocktail dress that I spent entirely too much money on and have only worn once. However, that all changed when I asked my grandmother what her favorite piece of clothing was throughout her life. I thoroughly expected her to describe some chic dress that she wore in 1970. Of course, like grandmothers tend to do, her answer was surprising and altogether insightful.

This matriarch of a person that I get to call Gramma described to me in detail a dress that not only captures the essence of who she is as a woman but offers a snapshot into the heart of my family. She told me, with sweet nostalgia in her voice, that her favorite outfit was a feed sack dress her mother made her. Now, for those of you that don’t know, a feed sack dress is just that. Once upon a time, feed used to come in beautifully patterned sacks that would later be used as material for things like pillowcases, dresses or anything else needed. As she reminisced about this dress, she began talking about her ration books and the war. Her voice was filled with a pride that I lack the words to describe. She was proud of her family, where she came from, and her country.

When I was a little girl my favorite outfit was this yellow tee shirt from a candy shop at the beach, shorts I could get wet in, and Tevas. I didn’t like to brush my hair and I was just plain dirty. I resembled Donnie from "The Wildthornberrys." She might have been gross, but I am proud to have been that child and I wish I was more like her every day. She pedaled hard on a bicycle to keep up with her dad and cried every summer when she had to leave the ocean. You see, your favorite outfit represents something that is far from material. My grandmother’s feed sack dress was symbolic of where she came from, who she first was, and what she loved.

In 60 years are you really going to remember that dress that hangs in your closet? I’ll probably remember that ice cream stained tee shirt that my mother had to pry from my grimy skin in the same way that my grandmother remembers her feed sack dress. Beneath my clothes, I want to be a woman that the little girls in feed sack dresses and dirty tee shirts would look up to. After all, the most beautiful outfit is one that captures who you are, who you have been, and who you are becoming.