I saw a woman the other day, she was seventy maybe. The emerald green converse on her feet suggested she had been sashaying through cobblestone for years. She wore gold tights. Her skirt was teal, leather maybe? and her shirt- a rusty shade of violet with an image of what appeared to be a flock of seagulls ironed-on. A khaki fedora sat atop her head. She wore a yellow raincoat. Naturally, there wasn't a cloud in the sky.
Shame on me, for something crossed my mind like, "did she get locked inside TJ Maxx?? piss drunk??" I shook my head to erase the thought but kept my eyes on her. She gave me a knowing smile and turned the corner.
As the rain poured down the following evening, I stood positively helpless in front of my closet- flipping off my hangers with only thirty minutes to a dinner a reservation. The woman in the street crossed my mind. How easy it must be for her to get dressed I began to think. How she probably never has to worry about walking into a restaurant, only to find a striking similarity between her black cardigan and knee boots and the woman sitting next to her. How everything about her was her own. She owned her style. And yes it is true, no one else in the room would probably want it, at the very least it was hers..
So, as Winter looms overhead like an f-ing fruit fly and the term "seasonal depression" becomes as worn out as an old pair of converse, I think we could all use a few pointers from "our lovely lady of iron-on-seagulls."
Don't give up on what defines you. Don't give into the darkest shades of winter blues. Mix your favorite pair of ridiculous heels with some chunky cable knit tights and a leather- teal anyone? knee skirt and kick 'em off half way through dinner as you laugh about it with wine-stained teeth. Take a crisp white blouse and suffocate it with layers of originality. Carry a purse you haven't spoken to in years. Allow a lighter shade of red to emerge from your lips. Wear a fedora. For soon enough spring will arrive and winter will become nothing more than a rusted violet memory. At the very least- you'll want to be able to say you had a little fun with it while it was here.
*This is a variation of a story I wrote while living in Spain. At 32 weeks pregnant and a steady diet of pasta of root beer floats, I am neither wearing nor doing any of the beforementioned - but felt the urge to pull the story out for inspiration nonetheless.
"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." -Elizabeth Stone
Starting to get a little sentimental as my time alone with my first-born comes to an end. Though if the way she looks after her mama is any indication; she will be an amazing older sister.
I've had my eye on a not-so-inexpensive eco-friendly birch table for the little Princess for a while now. After going to the store and testing it out and quietly observing her I felt like it was something we had to have. Of course, once you see the light in your child's eye as she smiles and sits like a school girl- feeling so big and occupied- you are instantly sucked in. But then my husband reminded me that we were in a recession. As I witnessed myself trying to sell him on the idea of a new "toy" that she can actually use for an activity rather than just stringing out over the house - only to be bored with ten seconds later- I could see the "we're not buying her a 400.00 table in his eye." which I get. So last weekend we headed to our trusty Ikea to take our desires down a notch and check out the much cheaper alternatives. I have to say this was a good purchase. For fifty bucks we found a table and chairs (one that I will allow in the home) and we are amazed at how she actually uses this thing! It has been great to watch her color, play with puzzles, eat snacks, etc..and light enough that we can throw it outside when the weather is nice so she can enjoy patio season with us. 
The strangest thing happened yesterday. Well, at least I thought it was strange. Actually, not as much strange as it was inspiring. On an otherwise cold and gloomy winters day, it seemed as though spring had taken a giant exhale into our home and left us with a wonderful treat. 
