November 14, 2004
-
I remember buying my first suit. I didn’t want to but I needed it to “sit out.” This meant we had to go to court and practice being a court reporter. I started dressing a little differently during those days, like a court reporter would. I am sooo not a suit person. I had a professional-looking hairdo, and I wore mom clothes suitable for the PTA.
I took up bellydance when I was 46. When it became apparent that it wasn’t a passing fancy, I began to acquire clothes appropriate for late-night clubs where other students would perform to live music. I began listening to the growing collection of Arabic music in the car, in my room. Pretty soon I started buying everyday clothes that just flowed more: lots of colorful skirts, interesting embroidered, silk jackets. And then I found a seamstress to start making my costumes. My ex-husband found my new image…well, he didn’t approve. I traveled to every dance workshop I could find and attended all the big shows. I was taking three classes a week and renting a studio so I had a big space in which to practice.
When I bought my first house, after the divorce, I spent all my time in the yard. When I wasn’t planting, I was thinking about planting. I redid every square inch of that property and began to think of myself more as a farmer. I wore overhauls, either long or short, and my nails were always dirty. I was never happier than when I got to play in the dirt. I joined the Tilth club and took organic gardening classes. I needed more land so I bought an acre.
Now, as you all know, I am trying my hand at writing. And because of this Nano thing I am spending much of my time either typing or thinking about what to type. I keep wanting to write more but I’m not sure what their next move is. So then I take a shower and it comes to me. It’s all I think about. Well, as you can imagine, the laundry is waaay behind. My hair needs to be dyed. And that brings up my image. I need a haircut desperately but I don’t leave the house any more and I really want something that requires absolutely no effort. So I’m thinking about short. What does a writer look like? ‘Cause I’m looking like shit.
Comments (6)
This brought a smile to my face. The ways we change our clothes as we change our selves underneath. How we’re different yet always us.
Your last line made me laugh. A sad kind of laugh because I totally know what you mean…
However you want to look. Whatever is most comfy. I hate doing my hair, have even decided to stop coloring…and my silver is now slowly showing up, especially in front and I actually like it. Owning who you are is the best feeling:)
That’s the beauty of being a writer…no one cares what you look like!
i donno… i wear pjs and slippers until 3 bc i hit the computer as soon as i wake up and write until my fingers hurt, then i shower, walk the dog, putter around the house in jeans and an old t, and then i’m back at the keyboard until 7ish or later… and that’s what this writer wears… i don’t worry about it unless the ups man comes at 3 and i am still in pjs and a bathroom or baggy hoodie
Great post. You are so multi-faceted