Monday, March 30, 2009

a moment of realization

Yesterday, as we were walking uptown to a ski sale, Jon commented on how well put together I was (vintage cream raincoat with brown stitching/big purple and white cotton scarf). I said how it's easy to pull it off—a good coat/good scarf and I'm all set, that warmer weather is hard for me as I shed layers and reveal more. He noticed that it's all about being covered up and this lightbulb of realization went off. My need to be covered up, in these crazy coats and psychedelic dresses started when I stopped being outrageously thin. 3 years ago. Somehow being thin was different enough and I didn't need to do anything else but revel in that skirting-on-the-edge of looking ill. But now that I look like everyone else, now that my clothes don't fall off and smalls don't swim on me, I am compelled to draw attention away from my ordinary, getting older body. It's not to get attention just for me, it's to draw attention away from the fact that I'm not super thin anymore.

1 comment:

HarperAcademic said...

I understand the comfort of layers. It must run in my family: When my brother was four, he wore a pair of blue mittens every day throughout the winter. When the weather got warmer, my mother couldn't get him to give them up. In early April, he wore them with a sweater. In early May, he wore them with a tee shirt. Finally, my mother lost them. He was devastated. How could he go out of the house without his mittens?