Clothes and me just don't mix well. No, I'm not saying that I'm planning on walking around naked for the rest of my life, just that it would make my life a hell of a lot easier to just wear pajamas all day. Two things in the past month alone have proved my line of thinking.
Every year my school holds a Shakespeare Competition for anyone stupid enough to volunteer themselves to recite 15-20 lines in front of the whole student body. Well, I'm one of those. I didn't place this year and got a chance to get pointers from one of the judges after. She told me something I never thought I'd hear in my life: my skirt was too short. No, it's not like she could see up it or anything but that it "restricted movement". I thought that was hysterical! My mom made that skirt! I did a dance routine in a play wearing it! It's my only skirt! It's not even that short. It falls just above the knee. Sure it's short enough so that I have to watch how I sit but, really.
Scenario #2: I'm a certified fashion victim. Literally. Yesterday I was wearing my loafer-type things. Their kinda trendy. They have a two-inch heel that's the size of, oh, say, half a brick. Anyway, their my first heeled shoes that I'll wear for normal daily use. I'm used to them by now - or so I thought. Yesterday I was wearing them with my khaki pants (I was on my once-in-a-blue-moon preppy look). Well, I was going downstairs from the French room on the third floor to my locker on the first. As I was approaching the second floor, the right heel caught the fabric of my right pantleg sending me tumbling down five steps. Luckily only three people were around (two I don't know, and the third I've known since fourth grade) so my pride wasn't bruised too badly. I continued down the stairs but instead of my ocker, I went to the nurse's office to check myself out. Just a scrape on the shin and bruised knees. They still ache today but I'm OK. The greatest thing that just made it totally worthwhile was when I went back up to the French room. I told Mme. McMahon why I was a little late and she said, "Oh, don't worry, I do that all the time."
I suppose now all of you see why I usually stick to T-shirt and jeans and am glad that my parents didn't name me Grace.
Wednesday, January 25, 2000