When I moved from El Paso to New York City in 1968, I brought with me perhaps a couple of dozen pairs of gloves. At least half of them were white, and I remember that one was an elbow-length pair of kid (leather) gloves. When I was in high school in the early 1950s, gloves were (along with hats) standard apparel for going to ladies teas, riding on an airplane or train, and going to church. The long kid ones were to wear when going to a formal dance in a long gown.
A lot of things happened in 1968, with the Hippies and all that — and wearing ladies gloves pretty much ended in the wake. My glove collection sat through the 1970s and into the 1980s in a drawer, unworn. In the mid-1980s I was working at a large Wall Street law firm. One of those Decembers a paralegal came to my desk to ask for a contribution to Santa Claus. She explained that the paralegals had gotten a “Letter to Santa Claus” from the Post Office and were collecting to answer the wish of a junior high school teacher in the South Bronx who had written it. The teacher wrote that the children in her class were very poor and would get almost nothing for Christmas. Could Santa help?
I decided to donate my gloves. My hands are small, and I figured the youngsters could at least get some warmth from them. Several weeks later, the paralegal who had solicited me in the first place came by my desk to thank me. She said the teacher had written to thank her team for collecting the gifts. The paralegal wanted me to know that my gift was a huge hit and the favorite over all the others. The kids went nuts over the white gloves that let them dress like Michael Jackson.
The image with this post is from a mid-1980s video from the time President Reagan welcomed Jackson to the White House. The glove in the image covers a hand clinging to the White House fence during Michael’s visit. Perhaps the glove is one I once owned. Yes, there is a Santa Claus.
