Happy Thursday!
As a little girl, I loved to play dress-up. My mother, being a teacher, allowed me to take lick-and-stick foil stars out of her desk whenever I wanted to be Wonder Woman- after all, bracelets and headband/tiaras weren’t *really* like Wonder Woman’s unless they had stars on them! I loved looking through her high school yearbooks, because they had full-page photos of Homecoming and Prom royalty, decked out in crowns, robes, formal dresses, gloves, and dyed-to-match shoes. Each Christmas I had a new holiday dress, each Easter too. They usually twirled.
My first prom was in an Eskimo village at the top of the world, and surprisingly, I was invited to attend even though I was only in the eighth grade. I attended many more proms throughout high school, and dabbled in pageantry as well, so I had a steady fix of satin, rustley tulle, high heels, and sparkly jewelry to wear.
When I became a kindergarten teacher, it was natural to continue to play dress up! Fairy Tale Dress Up Day was enjoyed annually in my classroom, and I always made sure to wear a twirly dress and sparkly crown. When my husband and I met, I had no idea that my love of taffeta, Gunne Sax, and evening handbags would serve me well as a military “significant other,” a future (and present) military spouse.
No, I’ll never have a reason to archive my favorite gowns, but for now, I just can’t bear to part with these:
My “Zorro” gown was what I wore to my first Military Police Ball in Alaska…it swishes, it rustles, it sparkles, it’s gorgeous…
This is my Gunne Sax treasure- all lace, pearl buttons, ribbons…I wore it to a Christmas/Holiday Ball:
Details, details, details…
of these…
I could have danced…all night…
**As for the gowns that I CAN part with, they’ll be on Ebay this week**
Even fully decked out in a fancy gown, pretty jewelry, and possibly a tiara, I know I’m only
pretending to be a fairy godmother. After listening to last night’s Democratic debate, I agree with
Tara: just because a person wears a little flag pin on his or her lapel doesn’t make that person truly patriotic. Patriotism isn’t what you wear, it’s what you do. And yes, could we please stop dumbing down the debate questions?
“I was going to write that patriotism does not require wearing a silly cheap plastic flag pin bought from Wal-Mart and made in China. I don’t care if you drape your front lawn in flags and wear a flag pin every waking moment, if you aren’t doing something to establish a dialogue and change the downwards spiral in America, you’re part of the problem.
Patriotism is questioning what’s happening in your country. Patriotism is being a soldier trying to stay alive amidst terrible conditions in a war fought under false pretenses. Patriotism involves the families who struggle to pay bills while their husband or wife is in Iraq or returning soldiers who have serious injuries, yet must fight to get the proper medical care they need. Patriotism is those who fight for the underdog and try to protect the Constitution and our civil liberties. Patriotism is shining attention on critical issues affecting us all, such as global warming and human rights. Patriotism involves helping insure a better future for our children and their children, by keeping informed about issues that impact our lives. Patriotism is thinking for ourselves. It is not accepting blindly what someone else tells you to do - that’s fascism.”
Tara Bradford, Paris Parfait
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The season of change has taken up residence in my home. Not autumn, not back-to-school time, and not Uncle-Sam-is-moving-us-again, but rather the season of No-matter-how-long-I-wait-and-hold-on-to-these-clothes-I-will-probably-never-fit-into-them-again. Trying to soften the blow, Dear Daughter reminded me that living in Oz for the next few years won’t offer too many opportunities for me to wear my wool/blanket style skirts, gorgeous hand knit sweaters, or heavier-lined career dresses that worked so well in Alaska.
BLECH.
