I never understood the ban on purple. Was the color considered to be vulgar, or simply tacky? My adolescent speculations ran wild. I had visions of plum-skirted Gypsies and French women jitterbugging through the streets of Paris--in my imagination they'd be whirling in all their purple glory, pierced body parts jangling.
Finally came the day--I think it was the eighth grade--when I finally got to wear something purple. I've never felt more daring than the day I ventured down the hallway of junior high in my pale lavender miniskirt and matching vest.
I guess it wasn't only my stepmother who disdained the color purple. For example, here's a line from a poem written in the early 60's by Jenny Joseph:
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple/And a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.