Thursday, October 6, 2016

all you need is one great bag

Last week was really rough.
I'm not even sure why. 
It just was.
And then on Sunday as I kept trying hour to hour to distract myself, I went to goodwill.
And it's so ridiculous but it made me really happy.
I can't remember the last year I went into one. 
But being there it suddenly reminded me of what it was to be 20 again. 
Back when I shopped there because it was cool to wear old clothes I got for $6.99.
Back when I was such a naive, hopeless romantic.
Back when I still had faith in love. 
It was like some sort of time machine, rifling through those dirty hangers and ridiculous types of clothes. 
I found a beyond silly Christmas vest for $3.99.
I bought it. 
I'm going to win tacky Christmas sweater day at my work again this year. 
And I bought a wig that's long auburn colored hair so when I want to feel like that red headed girl I used to be I can feel that too. 
The other thing I remembered about who I was when I was 20 was that I loved fashion. 
Dressing was such an intrinsic part of my self expression, it was constantly changing, vibrant colors, experimenting, layering.
It was such a part of who I was. 
And lately I've been living in the same 5 euro pair of leggings I got in Ireland and it's been boring as fuck.
So every day this week. 
Every day. 
I've worn something expressive. 
The white dress with blue flowers, and blue stockings and my blue sweater and the tan belt that matches my tan bag I got in Galway.
And then I wore the red 60s dress that makes me look like Joan Holloway and little black heels. 
I can't remember the last time I wore heels. 
And today I woke up and I was tired. 
Really tired. 
I can't wear a dress and stockings today, I thought. I just can't. 
So I decided it was okay to wear my leggings.
But then I remembered the striped boat neck sweater I have and put on the wedges that were the only pair of shoes Kai ever liked (god, he was opinionated) and I'd turned my lazy legging outfit into a 50s Rizzo inspired look and I smiled at my reflection. 
I know I'm never going to be the same girl I was when I was 20. 
And I know I'm not the same woman who once had long red hair. 
But it's comforting to see I'm still the creative, expressive woman I once loved to be. 
Some things are worth not giving up on. 




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