Yesterday, my horoscope said something about being full of energy (did you read yesterday's post) and looking fine. It said I'd be attracting plenty of opposite sex attention in the evening. Okay, I looked like 40 pounds of shit in a five pound bag. Let's be honest. So, you can imagine my surprise and amusement when the handsome, young man in the elevator at Sav-On commented on my Lakers Converse and was generally flirty all the way to our cars (parked side by side). He loved the Jack ball on my antenna. The reindeer is his favorite. Being West Hollywood, he was probably gay, but he had great eyes. I had to laugh and give props to the horoscope writer.
I am feeling much better today. It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do for your disposition. I curled my hair today and played with it a little only to put on an old T-shirt and overalls. I feel comfortable and that makes me happy. Which brings me to the subject line...I am never going to be the kind of girl who dresses up, puts on make up, does her hair and all that girly girl stuff every day. I'm girly inside. I bake. I knit, crochet, cross stitch. I can sew but haven't in years. I can cook, but don't do so for myself. I love a good clean kitchen. I actually enjoy scrubbing my bathroom. Basically, despite what she may believe, Joanie did a good job preparing her daughters to be good wives. Too bad only one of them actually succeeded.
I will dress up next Tuesday, possibly in one of the three skirts I own, wear heels and put on make up just to prove to Tina and the girls that I can. But at the end of the day, I'm a jeans kind of gal and always will be. I love the girly looks, the pretty skirts, the fun shoes, the hair, the makeup. I love Sephora. I subscribe to Lucky magazine just to see all the fun styles, the handbags, the shoes. I always say to myself, "If I were thinner, I'd wear those kinds of clothes". But the truth of the matter is, I was thinner and guess what I didn't wear.
Did I mention shoes? I have six pairs of sneakers and two, count them, two pairs of dress shoes. I have sandals (even a pair of strappy ones) but I never wear them. And clogs. Am I alone in my love of clogs? If I didn't think I'd be laughed into a cave of shame, I'd wear my clogs all the time. I want a pair of the kind the doctors wear, but they cost, like, my whole paycheck.
I've tried to be girly. Lord, how I have tried. In the 80's, I bought a mini skirt, owned several neon accessories and cut sweatshirts to achieve the Flashdance look. But it wasn't me.
I used to work in an office that required me to dress in business attire, and while I got used to it, I never quite enjoyed it. And then there's my hair. I've permed, I've layered, I've had bangs, and one time in six grade, very short (I looked awful) boy cut. Every time I try new hairstyles, I let them grow out to my tried and true long and straight (or wavy) hair. But really, what's wrong with my hair? It's in good condition. It's versatile. It comforts me. So what if my junior year school picture looks eerily like my Kindergarten photo.
I will wear my jeans and Converse high tops into old age. I'll be that quirky old lady you see in the grocery store with long white hair, jeans, Ramones T-Shirt and red Chucks. And I will be happy and comfortable. Amen.