Thalia pulled the lonely frock from its hanger and laid it on the bed. Its lace appliqué — a passion fueled purchase from a clearance rack — had only seen the light of day once… maybe twice… over the course of several years.
“Too… impractical.” said Nia. “We’re going grocery shopping, taking Henny on her daily field trip, writing thank-you notes, and hopefully getting our hands full of pencil dust. Hang it back up.”
Calliope rummaged through Typist’s t-shirt drawer.
Thalia scowled. “We’re wearing it or putting it in the donation bag! I didn’t perform my acrobatic maneuvers to get her to buy the dress only to see it languish in the closet.”
As if setting the table for tea with fine china, Calliope placed a pair of tailored shorts and flow-y, flowery top next to the dress. She hoped to strike a balance that was amenable to both parties.
Was it the new paddleboard that had lit a candle of confidence in the Muse of Wit? “Dress.” Her sparkling eyes challenged Nia.
The Muse of Determination was well versed in picking her battles. “Fine,” she said. “Today we’ll give the dress a… twirl. Tonight we’ll decide if it stays or goes.”
Words from Typist:
The meditations I read this morning carried a theme of authenticity. No less than three sources schooled me about honoring my personal gifts and unique interests. It was suggested that I allow my pilot light of Spirit to shine and pollinate the world.
I was reminded of my childhood desire to keep my hair short like an actress I’d seen on my mother’s daily soap opera. This inclination conflicted with what I felt was an overwhelming beauty standard of long hair for women. I blowdried and styled thick, unruly locks that fell at my shoulders or below until I was well into my forties.
It was shortly after I started writing that I adopted the hairstyle Nia now sports. I love it… and am delighted that once my peach fuzz starts growing back, it won’t take long before my authentic style is retained.
Anything in your closet that needs to stay or go?
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I used to have hair long enough I could sit on it. It would get so frizzy in the humid weather. I used to wash and roll it up in those huge brush rollers that were orange juice can size. Then I would sleep at night with a bonnet style hair dryer on it. One night I put the hair dryer on, went to bed and in the morning found that the covers had gotted pulled over on top of the dryer and melted it. I realized how lucky I was not to have caused a fire. Then I got a hard bonnet style then had to sit under it for about 3-4 hours to get my hair dry.. After I got married my husband begged me to get it cut. Each time I rolled over in my sleep he choked on my hair. It would hit him in the face and he'd inhale it. I can't stand my hair long now. I get it cut when it starts to hang down over my eyes. I love seeing the lace on your picture. My mother taught me years ago how to sew, knit, crochet, and make all kinds of lace. Bobbin lace, hairpin lace, tatted lace etc. She always intended to teach home-ec but got busy raising 3 kids instead. In her later years dad started raising sheep and she learned how to clean, card, spin and dye to make her own yarn. She taught me how to do it too. Sadly my daughter did not inherit my crafting genes. I tried to teach her but she couldn't do it. Mom was not available to help since we were living in Germany and then down here in Louisiana. Mom was up in Northern Michigan.
Button: “I wept, because I had no shoes. Then I met a man who had no feet. So I said, ‘Hey, buddy, got any shoes you aren’t using?’” 😁
I've found short-haired women more attractive ever since... not sure. College, at least. Which is when I first got women friends, and (being the Naval Academy) they all had short hair. But every woman I've dated (and both women I've married) had/have short hair. Maybe just because it looks so practical? So that implies a woman who has better things to do with her time than fuss with her hair? I find smart, practical women to be beautiful.
Back in the 1980s, women midshipmen (Naval Academy and NROTC) had to keep their hair cut above the bottom of their uniform collars. Naturally, the first thing they did on getting commissioned was to let it grow (still had to be above the bottom of their collar, but braids and such were now allowed). That lasted a couple years or so; then just being a Naval officer took up too much time, and the hair started to get trimmed again. Especially moms. I had a colleague who had lovely blond hair that came down below her shoulder blades when she wore civies on the weekends; one morning she came to work with no braids, hair cut short. I gave her raised eyebrows (because I had learned, at great personal expense, that Thou Shalt Not Question A Woman's Hair Choice) to which she responded, "Yes. I got it cut. I can keep a spare set of whites ready to wear to work in emergencies, but I can't keep a spare set of hair for when HIS DAUGHTER [pointing at her husband, also a Navy lieutenant, who had a Why Is This My Fault? look on his face] pukes all over me just before I'm coming in to work. Any questions?" Nope!