Now, I'm not big on used clothing, since it seems people in the 70s were not proportioned the way I am. Which is weird, because I came from two people who were my age in the 70s. What did they wear? I assume my mom wore hippie clothes she sewed herself, and my dad wore Black Panther-style leather jackets and berets, and neither look is really my style. Also, that is probably untrue, since my parents were suburban, middle-class Republicans with day jobs and night classes. All of this is to say, I buy clothes online from the Gap, because they sell pants with freakishly long inseams that are shipped to me sealed in plastic, and I never have to speak to another human being. Total opposite of the thrift store experience.
So on the rare occasion I find myself in a thrift store, I don't even bother trying to shop and instead gravitate towards the most ridiculous-looking thing I can find. It's almost always the rack of formal dresses, and last night was no exception. The first dress I picked up was a yellow and silver sequined strapless dress with the 80s flare-out thing that hit around the knees. So sparkly. So poofy. I loved it.
Anyway, the dress prompted the following conversation, which I think sums up the relationship Heather and I have pretty well.
Naomi: [Picks up dress] "Oooh!"
Heather: "Oooh! Sparkly!"
"Yeah." [Puts dress back.] "I need your opinion on something. I'm thinking of making a hoop* with sparkle tape and lace. Does that sound good, or would it be too much?"
"No, that sounds awesome!"
"Okay. It's just..."
"Well, I have a whole closet full of sequined clothes, and I'm going to make a dress for the Iveys this year that has a feather skirt..."
"Oh yeah, I saw the link you posted about that!"
"Right, it'll be awesome. But with the feathers, and the sequins, and the lace...it's just that sometimes I worry that I'll wake up one morning and discover that I've transformed into a gay pride parade float."
"Oh. Well, if that happens, I'll throw candy at you!"
"Thanks, and I'll throw condoms at you!"
And probably the best photo to illustrate this story: Heather and I on New Year's Eve 2010, very sparkly and maybe just a tiny bit intoxicated. Not to be confused with New Year's Eve 2009, when I woke up the next morning on Heather's couch wearing a t-shirt that said "I'd Rather Be Riding Ginger!" That does not sum up our relationship at all.
|Those are the faces of people who do not normally stay up past midnight |
or wear heels for more than two hours. Friggin' CHAMPIONS.
(The show was a ton of fun, by the way. Check it out at the Fringe Festival. And check out Heather's show, which I am now morally obligated to promote since she'd let me throw condoms at her if I were a gay pride parade float. This is the new standard by which all future relationships will be measured.)
*More on this later. Okay, maybe just a little bit right now!