Today, Thursday April 20th, I wore a new tunic that I recently purchased . This purchase is tied to dressing the way that I like to. As I have stated before I tend to forgo the trendy styles. It’s just the way that I am. Well what started a good day came to a dramatic close that I did not foresee.
Let me describe my outfit. The tunic is an eastern indian tunic with an outer tunic and a shell. The outer tunic is a maroon color with geometric shapes in different colors and beading at the bottom and the same colors in slim piping around the neck and wrists. Not real flashy. At least I thought is was fun. I paired it with black leggings and black heels. The tunic is loose-fitting and hits two to three inches above the knee. Not low-cut. The outer tunic is sheer but the under tunic is the same color, long and solid. No skin and not slutty. At my office I got the usual looks of “and here is her funkiness”. I am used to that. No issue. When outside in the afternoon I had a black shawl over it as the temperature has been dropping all day. Again I was comfortable in what I had on. Right until I hit therapy that is.
Walking to the coffee shop this evening I almost got run over by a guy coming out of a side door. Turns out it was my therapist. I didn’t get a good look at him as I was being propelled by the wind down the street. Yes 50 mile per hour wind gusts will get you moving. Anyway I went in, grabbed some coffee and killed some time before my appointment. When I went in I put my wrap on as my therapists office tends to be cold. Our conversation somehow got in to dating. I have stated that I am just giving that all a rest right now. I need to get to a place where I am willing to deal with the “not quite supportive” attitudes of family and such. We discussed dating until I closed that subject. Unfortunately I still had at least 10 minutes to go of the session. Now I don’t do real well with one on one attention. Especially after discussing dating and doing my best to avoid my body issues. When I am focused intently I fidget. It totally sucks and tonight I was told that the day I can sit in total comfort with out fidgeting because I have nothing else to discuss is the day that he will know I am totally better.
First thought in reaction to that statement was “Sweet Jesus I will be seeing this guy for the rest of my freaking life!” I did manage to stifle the sob that thought produced.
Anyway this led to a conversation about my outfit and attention. While my therapist meant nothing inappropriate I felt a little like a hussy when we were done. It wasn’t what he said that produced this reaction but my past. Let me break it down. I wear high heels pretty much all the time and the reason is that flats chew up my feet. Today’s shoes were 9 West black with a gold buckle on the front, hidden 1 1/2 inch platform and 4 inch heel. Again I wore black leggings that were solid black and no design. The tunic I have described above. Over it I had on a plain black wrap/shawl. His analysis of my outfit was as follows: I subconsciously want attention. The tunic was colorful and like peacocks I was using it to attract the opposite sex. Men like high heels. Leggings showed off my legs. Now he clarify that he wasn’t saying that I dressed trashy or anything but that I dressed, his word, eccentric.
Side bar here: Eccentric? Freaking really? My goodness I wasn’t wearing my pi’s, fuzzy slippers with a beaver fur hat on my head. Yes, it is a bit different for most of Pittsburgh, but come on!
He did follow-up the discussion with the statement that he was not pushing a new Amish look for me. Though I have to admit it sounds good right now. Especially after the next part. I came home. To my mother.
Mom’s taste is very classic, traditional, and tailored. I also like that style when in business meetings or such. Even with the tunics I don’t do frilly bits. Just not me. After going round and round with her I got a “I guess it is okay”. I then brought down the second tunic I bought. A light blue with a light silver tone outer tunic with bead work around the neck line. Oh just freaking kill me. PLEASE! Let us just say the conversation went speeding downhill like an out of control toboggan to the comment “But you’re not Indian”. With this comment comes the LOOK. The look of hesitation that means concern that I am going over the edge.
Right now I have a headache. I am going to go and straighten my room for my sister who is coming out tomorrow. Then I am going to find every piece of black clothing I own. Which will get me challenged on dressing “goth”. Sometimes I am not sure being true to yourself is worth it. Right now I am leaning towards a big fat “NO”.
