The piece de resistance of it all was the floor-length mink coat that was a gift from a client who worked as a furrier in Manhattan. Racks of dangle earrings, stacks of bangles, and piles of candy-colored necklaces crowded the tops of her bureau. I spent these visits studying her suit jackets with their stiff shoulder pads and matching skirts, gently fingering the sequined and beaded dresses that shined even in the dim light. As an executive in the credit department at the newly-opened Resort’s Casino Atlantic City, my grandmother’s wardrobe was the stuff of fantasy, the perfect storm of 1980s high maximalism and gambling-mecca glitz. When I was a little girl my favorite place in my grandparent’s house was my grandmother’s closet.
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