you can wear me on your foot but I'm also fun to ride with the help of gravity take a seat and you will glide

The result of mirrors and light A permanent portal to the past Memories tangible through touch and thought

Tiny kernels, loud ambitions, destined for movie time traditions.

I'm often found at the back, a place for food and fun, I can lower down with a clack, when the party's just begun. I might hold a cooler or a grill, ready for a feast, But I have no mouth, though I'm often filled. What am I?

Picked by hand to begin, then Whitney created the gin. Woven and sewn for daily attire, wash me cold, or else I will shrink entire.