Sweatpants don’t suit me. Never have. But people love them, especially people stuck at home for months freed from fashion standards in workplaces and public spaces. For teleconferencing, a single crisp shirt will do. That one shirt and an absence of anything too personal—handwritten notes, self-help books, a jar of Vaseline on a shelf. Nobody needs to see these. That we can even consider spending half the day half-dressed proves the engines of vanity are being retooled. Consider hair. When the pandemic began, absolutely no one was having their hair cut, not even people who could do it themselves. We were stunned. Any tending of appearance seemed petty and irreverent. Besides, it seemed impossible in our emotional state. These days, the concerns of dressing from head-to-toe have been replaced by a new vanity, one more insidious than before the pandemic. The corner thumbnail of myself in conversation on screen is like the mirror I am lucky to escape from after fixing my hair every morning. This real-time image of myself reflects my reflection to me, and I can’t help but glance… and glance… and… The distraction of wanting to and NOT wanting to see myself at the same time intrudes on conversations and strategy sessions and sincere inquiries of concern for your wellbeing. I can’t hide from my self-aware-self-consciousness anymore. Which makes me ask: what is it for—this concern for appearance and how I show up for the day, for you in that day, even if you will never know what kind of pants I’m wearing? Why get dressed? Why get all the way dressed up, tending the body, donning jewelry and a matching over-shirt, the handprinted one I found with my son when Comic-Con was in town two years ago? I dress up—even now—because I still believe looking my best gives a welcome gift to the world, even the incidental world of UPS delivery drivers and neighbors bringing their garbage bins back from the street. Yes, the world I see every day is small—family-members and the two friends who are germ pod-mates. What do they notice when they see me? They could care less what I look like! They barely notice anything. I do love them, but it’s discouraging. What’s the point of wearing a mini-skirt if no one really sees my legs? Which is the point, of course: I hope to be seen. But not only for the obvious reasons. Colorful clothes and hair held up high with a flame salmon elastic are also a way I express my appreciation for YOU, you who are beautiful however you appear, you whose smile I crave. You who will sometimes smile because of me. I miss your smile. I miss the smiles of my friends, of the familiar folks who work at the drug store, the food market, the dress shop where I used to stop in just to visit with the women, to turn and share the way my garments fall just so, just so for you, my friends, just so to celebrate our life, here, together. Now, there is so little of that. But I keep getting dressed up. I put goo in my hair to draw out the curl. And I miss you. Karen Jessee Please consider leaving a your thoughts below for other readers,
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3 Comments
Sue
9/14/2020 09:44:54 am
I love this! Delightful, true and so funny..”to draw out the curl”! You made my day.
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Melva Fager Okun
9/14/2020 02:29:51 pm
I loved this piece. I love you and miss you. I don't see you often but I am always glad to see you. I remember your clothes, and appreciate them, but don't remember any specifics. But I do remember your hair - it is always fun, and beautiful, and colorful, a little wild, and a little unexpected.
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9/15/2020 07:25:34 am
Ah, I am so different. I relish living in sweats. Would wear a uniform every single day if I could. I always appreciate Rachel Maddow on MSNBC in her ill-fitting dark blazers and black tanks underneath. She says she just grabs any one of them any night before going on air.
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