1967 was Canada's hundredth birthday and the whole country was celebrating. Expo 67 invited the world and changed the face of Montreal forever.
Men across the country grew centennial beards, even Dad. I was scolded by Mom for trimming his bushy grey whiskers with her good pinking shears.
I didn't make it to Montreal. Needing money for university, I got a summer job in a small news stand and souvenir store, The Hub.
Our town was full of Centennial plans and my workplace got involved. For work, each of us was invited to wear a centennial dress to work -- in the style of a hundred years ago.
The other girls wanted the big skirts and crinolines, but I planned to do something different. My pattern had a high necked bodice with lace at the neck and cuffs, leg of mutton sleeves, and a long straight skirt with one wide ruffle at the bottom. It would be simple and elegant.
I would make the bodice in lavender and the skirt in royal purple. Sadly, after I'd visited the only three stores in the town that sold fabric, I had to face the fact that there was no purple cloth to be had in our town, royal or otherwise.
I did find a nice lavender plisse for the bodice, but the skirt had to be navy blue. Perhaps that early instance of purple deprivation explains the extreme fondness I have since held for the colour.
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