Reflections

I have been feeling quite reflective of late.

Here are some examples:

I was walking to the T on Thursday morning, the morning of Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year for humans and animals) and realized that that day felt like New Year's to me. Not the way that January 1 feels, but the way that I would expect January 1 to feel. I have never been able to identify with that date as a new year. Autumn full moons, on the other hand, always make me feel as though tides are turning (and they are!) and the earth is starting a new part of its course (and it is! it tilt literally changes directions, remember!). Fall and Spring are much more natural times of year for the New Year to happen, planetarily speaking. Maybe it's because of the school year, and maybe it's because I truly sense my connection with the earth, but I decided that Rosh Hashanah, at least this year, was my New Year, too.

In contrast to my prior location of vocation, the Pru, which announces itself at 15 miles, my current location is tiny and old, practically undetectable between Faneuil Hall and the Financial District. No one knows where I work because it's this cool old building, and the door is an unassuming piece of work between a shoe store and a liquor store. I sometimes imagine myself a spy as I covertly slip into the building between the crowds of Freedom Trail Tours.

Fashion Statement

Over the last few years, it's been dawning on me that i really do enjoy fashion and on a certain level, always have, whether I let myself show it or not. In 4th grade, I designed a fashion line of my own. It didn't go anywhere, of course, but rather was a statement of my fascination with how fabric and color interact with the human form, not to mention my own expression feminity, my personal drag.

Puberty and the grunge era coincided for me, as it did for many of us, and it seemed like a perfectly convenient time for me to swear off my interest with looking nice and calling attention to my pubing self. For the next few years, baggy jeans and oversized T-shirts were my uniform -- the uncomfortable teen's mumu. Theatre became my outlet for looking girly, as it presented me with countless opportunities to sport houndstooth suits and classy heels, red evening dresses and lipstick, as well as a safe place to experiment with how make-up and ace bandages can make me look like a man.

As I moved out of my teen years, I had fun personalizing the jeans and t-shirts by turning them into "hide-me-hippy" clothing, a series of fashion choices that visually placed me in the demographic of my personal and political preferences. This trend continued into college, where my clothing often went well with my pajamas (convenient for rolling out of bed, eating a bowl of cereal, and going to class).

After college (which, remember, I finished at the ripe old age of 23) I began noticing the desire to find "my personal style." Bouncing back and forth between more closely fitting T's and experimenting with black pants and pink skirts, I think I finally found my personal style last fall. Having an office job made it harder in some ways and easier in others; there are restrictions, but it also gave me reasons to actually buy nice looking clothing that cost more -- something I had never had a reason to do in the past. Since I'm so cheap and feel bad every time I spend money on myself, I needed a reason to buy things that looked nice.

So I've embraced the bright, splashy skirts, mock turtleneck cap sleeve shirts with gathered necklines, and of course, 3 1/2 inch saddle shoe heels. I enjoy combining business casual with hippie scarves, and have noticed that the new haircut looks great with big earrings. I have found that I prefer wearing brown over black. I have figured out what make-up flatters me and what I can do without. I have also figured out that if it's not comfortable, I'm not going to wear it. That one has cost me money to figure out, but it will cost me less in the long run. I've spent a lot of money on cheap shoes and shirts that looked fine but were ultimately painful. Spending more money on something comfy AND flattering is much better than having a LOT of cheap stuff in my closet that I never wear.

These changes have happened over time. My yoga practice has allowed me to reconnect with long forgotten childhood memories (good and bad) and childhood passions (e.g. art -- I hadn't done art for 10 years and have started drawing again). It only makes sense that I would reconnect with my enjoyment of fashion and "dressing up." For a while, I was afraid of what I was "changing into." Instead, I've come to understand that I am getting closer to becoming a whole person again, and that admitting to my hobbies and being OK with them is part of that. I might renew my subscription to "Vogue" after all.