Mom always made sure that I had nice clothes to wear, but they were always homemade. And that was fine by me. It never dawned on me that the other kids (at least the more well-to-do ones,) purchased their clothes ready-made. No one ever made fun of my clothes. I do remember one time my grandfather shaming me because my white bucks were dirty. But I had no plans to go anywhere, so what was the difference. Did the geese, chickens, cows and horses really care if my white bucks were polished?