Monday, November 29, 2010

the cool kid

During a phone call earlier I found myself trying to convince my friend Molly that I was a bigger dork when I was a kid than she was. Turned out we were pretty even when it came to dorkiness and just being a general misfit, but the stories that surfaced trying to prove my point I felt were more than appropriate to be shared.

I began by explaining that my "sense of fashion" never really had anything to do with fashion, but more with comfort. I was obsessed with being comfortable. My mom still tells stories about how she had to buy my clothes at yard sales (not just because it was cheap!) but because I liked the "pre-washed-not-brand-new-comfyfeeling." My wardrobe consisted of several colors of cotton pants and formless t-shirts. I was most comfortable and happy when I was wearing pajamas basically.

I mean, of course there were exceptions to this, and I would find myself at times really pulling off some looks that were noteworthy, but mainly, my goal in life was comfort ;)

As I neared my teen years, I began to take notice that my sense of style was not really all that cool. I wanted to be cool, but I knew that just wasn't my calling in life. So try as I might, there was only so much this girl could do. My new favorite article of clothing was a pair of denim overalls with embroidered sunflowers on the bib. When those wore out, I replaced them with a pair of purple cordorouys. Both of which show up in my 7th and 8th grade school picture. In fact, I'm pretty sure the purple overalls were paired with my favorite formless tee in my 9th grade class picture.

My peers were highly aware of their appearance, and as time wore on I became highly aware of mine as well. I guess I just didn't know what to do about it! The progression had taken me from cotton stretch pants, to overalls, to finally jeans or khakis (depending on whether it was jeans and t-shirt day at school ;) but really, I was still a misfit. In 10th grade I decided bangs would make it all better. So I went to cutting them myself. Started off with a few... which didn't look right. So I kept combing more and more forward until most of the front of my hair was bluntly cut straight across my forehead. Not my finest moment.

All this makes me look at my high school years and think, wow, you were really sad. But the truth is, there was a whole 'nother side to this misfit style I had going on. Summer after 10th grade I walked into a gas station with my friend Beka sporting a towel fastened around my neck with a rubberband Superman cape style. We made our selections, paid and as we walked out the door grabbed the bottom of the towel, whipped it in front of our faces and said "I am the toothpaste that sticks to your toothbrush!" and then left.

Then again, running through a cornfield when I was 15, I fell and got my favorite khaki pants all dirty. The dirt wouldn't come out, so my mom bleached them and they turned peach. A kid overheard me telling about this incident one day and begged me to wear them to school. Whereupon I did. And they were awesome. I can't ever remember getting so many comments on something I wore as I did those peach pants. Of course there were your typical preppy stuck up girls who looked my way and whispered snide comments to eachother about them, but reality is, they were never cool enough to be sporting towel capes and peach pants.

Yep, I'm just that cool.


Saturday, November 6, 2010


I pulled into the driveway like every other morning. Four minutes early and still hungry. Because I'm too lazy to make myself food before I leave.

I stepped out of the car and the lawn crunched as my foot slipped off the edge of the driveway and when I looked down I noticed the most perfect sparkly frost all over. And I had my camera with me.

Though still a few minutes early, I did not take the time to get it out right then but rather said a silent prayer that it would still be the same in ten minutes when I could come back out.

And whaddaya know...



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