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Eats, Shoots, and Leaves

April 20, 2007

I stayed in last night, made Rice Crispy treats and asparagus soup. I also watched Grosse Point Blank, which I’d somehow managed to not ever see. It’s 10 years old! How does this happen?

Anyway. It was a cute movie. It made me think of my own 10-year high school reunion, and realize that this summer is 15 years since high school graduation. My next reunion is the big 2-0, and they only get bigger from there. But that’s not my point. My point is, after watching this movie, I had another dream. I was at my 10-year high school reunion (except it wasn’t at all like what my reunion ACTUALLY was, it was more like a Romy and Michelle kind of thing). In the dream, I was talking to someone whom I actually wasn’t very close to in high school, but in the dream we were like long-lost best buddies. I was saying that since it would be my duty to plan the next reunion (which isn’t really true), I had an idea: what if we had a Come As You Were party for the first night of the reunion?

Upon waking up, this cracked me up. And I thought, what a funny idea for a reunion. Get out your acid-wash jeans and Keds! I was thinking, what would my outfit be? Something along the lines of black tights, short black skirt, big slouchy black sweater, China-flat shoes. Enormous Jody Watley earrings. Too much eyeliner. Yep. I loved it.

Then I was thinking, do I have any mainstays of style that have followed me through the years? Now that I work in a corporate office, my outfits are not exactly high fashion, or even quirky fashion. I like my clothes, but they’re nothing special. That’s sort of the point. On occasion, I pull out a vintage flair. A little sexy-secretary. Art-lady all-black is also a favorite. But fashion? Not really. I’d love to have more fun with clothes. I do try, but when you sit at a desk in the corner all day, it’s kind of like, what’s the point? I look nice, I like my clothes. They could even be called flattering, usually. But they’re a far cry from my hippie-goth-artsy-vintage-thriftshop days. That’s kind of sad.

Sometimes I wish I worked in a less-corporate atmosphere so I could have a little more fun with my clothes. But then I think, wait a minute. If “Jane” can wear schlumpy almost-sweats all week and it passes dress code, then I should be able to pile on a few more bracelets, wear something other than a solid-color button-up. Break out the Jody Watley earrings. Or the modern-day equivalent.

Actually, I am trying. I’m getting better in the shoe department. I have cute dresses. I could do a little jewelry update, get some funky jackets, some new skirts. Maybe I just have to push past my own boring box.

I think I’ve said this before, but my beloved therapist Betty Jo once told me that what therapy (and life) is about is making the ‘tapestry’ match on both sides, so that the inside matches the outside, and vice versa. Maybe one step on that path is making my outer self match my inner vision.

Hey, I think that means I have to go shopping!

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