This photo reminds me of going to Sunday School in the Hall while Mum and Dad went to church. I seem to remember stories and colouring in.
I’m not sure at what age it started but girls were expected to wear hats to church. I hated hats. Mum loved hats. She was a milliner and it must have been a terrible disappointment to have three daughters and not one shared her passion for hats.
My brothers wore the obligatory jacket and short pants. Boys didn’t graduate to long pants until they were much, much older. Even most High School boys wore short pants. Their hair was slicked down, possibly with Brylcreem, that’s the only men’s hair product I remember ever being in the house. Dad preferred to just wet a comb and rake that through his hair.
The best thing about going to Sunday School was that it qualified us to attend the Sunday School Picnic held every year at Belair National Park. I remember walking down lots of steps from the station so we must have gone by train at least once. I also remember “accidentally” knocking over my cup of Ginger Beer in the hope of getting a fizzy drink more to my taste.
I think church attire theses days is much more casual.