I am not a girly girl. I have known this for a very long time. It probably occurred to me when I was climbing up the monkey bars as a kid. Yes, I was definitely a tomboy.
A couple of years ago, I probably wouldn’t have minded getting dressed nicely to go out on a Friday or Saturday night. I might have even dressed more femininely at work. Now-a-days, if it’s not easy to wear or comfortable, I can’t even be bothered.
Oddly enough, I will get a manicure and pedicure and I get my hair done to hide my grey. On occasion I will wear makeup. But goodness help me if I have to get dressed up for a wedding or any event outside of work. I’d rather have a bamboo shoot rammed under my nail bed. I can’t even recall when this all changed.
Picture the black out that happened in NYC the summer of 2003. At the time I was working in Brooklyn. I went to work in a cute skirt and a pair of kitten-heeled sandals. I looked adorable. Then the blackout happened. I walked all the way from the office in Brooklyn to my apartment in Manhattan. It took me 5 hours in a cute pair of kitten heeled shoes. When I got home, I had to peel the shoes off my feet, along with layers of skin. I had to bandage up my feet due to bleeding and pus oozing everywhere. Some cute shoes they were at the end of it. Yes, that was the day I decided to dress practically. I didn’t want to get caught in another situation where I would have to be uncomfortable again.
Power outage or not, I would rather be prepared for an emergency than to look pretty and feminine for one. No matter how I dress, if I’m caught on camera, whether I’m wearing loafers or heels, I’m going to look like tired and haggard.