Tying the Perfect Bow

Yesterday after church, I ran into two ladies who were admiring the lovely and festive red and green dress a little girl was wearing.  One of them mentioned that when her daughters were little, it was my mother who had taught her how to tie the perfect bow at the back of a party dress.  I can believe this, but I also found it amusing, as I had not learned to tie the perfect bow from my own mother.

To be fair, learning to tie any bow was such trauma for me, that my mother was probably happy I could tie something functional and didn’t worry about appearance.  Learning to tie ones own shoes was a huge deal in my kindergarten class.  As soon as we could demonstrate our ability to tie our shoes, we were honored with a bow pinned to our blouse for the day to let everyone know of our achievement.  I was the youngest person in my class.  I actually was too young to start school, but I was such a pain at home, that my mother took me to school at the age of 4 years and 4 months and begged them to take me.  Although my brain was clearly ready to be occupied by something other than telling my mother how to run the household, my fine motor skills were more in line with my age and tying a bow was quite beyond me.  My mother later said that I spent most of my kindergarten year bemoaning my inability to tie a bow, and sometimes crying that I would never get to have a bow pinned to my blouse.  I was so ecstatic when I finally came home sporting that bow, that I’m sure my mother didn’t care whether my bows looked perfect.

Unfortunately, I didn’t learn the correct way to tie a bow until I was eighteen, and the person who taught me wasn’t very kind about it!  After high school, I went into a 3-year diploma nursing program.  That would be the old style of nursing education where one was a slave of the hospital.  As we rotated through various specialty areas, we spent time in the operating room.  One fateful day, I was the circulating nurse, and as such, it was my duty to tie the bows at the back neck and waist of the doctor’s surgical gown.  He entered the room with arms raised, having scrubbed, slipped into the gown and turned his back to me to have the bows tied.  I had no sooner tied the bow at his neckline than he began to berate me.

“What is the matter with you?  Have you no idea how to tie a bow?  Don’t you know the bow is supposed to end up cross-wise….not up and down?  Do you want it to tickle my neck all during the surgery?  Look at your own shoes!  You tie your own shoes the same stupid way!”

I looked down at my feet.  Sure enough, the loops on the bows ran parallel to the length of my feet, not from left to right.  I wondered how I could have gone all those years oblivious to this huge faux pas.  I obviously could not correct my shoes then, but I did correct the bow at the doctor’s neckline following his instructions.  When I got back to my dorm room, I experimented with tying my shoes, and discovered there really was a difference in the results depending on which end of the lace was used for the first loop and which was wrapped around.  Imagine that!!

Since I didn’t get married and have daughters until after nursing school and college, I had perfected my bow tying before I had to use it for special occasion dresses.  My daughters were saved the embarrassment of an inept mother.  Lucky for them, I ran into that cranky doctor.  Shoes often have Velcro now, but I’ve never seen it on a party dress.