I battled milder wind gusts on the back porch yesterday to do some work for el proyecto secreto. I took a few moments to take photos of myself. Again. It’s not that I’m vain. Photographs of me are very hit or miss and I’m always trying to beat the odds so I snap a few when I’m photographing other stuff. You should see the ones I delete. Blerg.

So I finally got a good shot of my newish haircut and color.

I’ve always been sort of an odd dresser. At my preppy mc prepster high school and first college whenever I tried to dress preppy I always looked like I was making fun of them. Like a parody of prep. So I gave up on trying that. I went through a mild faux goth dance club phase and a dumbass tie dye phase. There was a very interesting Mod period as well as a Laura Ashley/Laura Ingalls Wilder complete with petticoat phase - both of those were in junior high.

At the College of Santa Fe I was known as “The overalls girl”. Which is quite an achievement considering the “Trustifarian” atmosphere. (total credit for that kickass word goes to Carole and Scout) I frequently wore a huge pair of overalls I found in a thrift store in Alabaster, Alabama in 1992. There were still peanuts in the bib pocket. You know, peanuts for putting in your coke when yer sitting on the front porch in your rocking chair. That’s the same thrift store where I found a big wedding dress and veil for ten dollars which I wore to run through the streets of the French Quarter for Southern Decadance in September that year. I miss that thrift store.

In my late twenties and into my very early thirties I dressed in mostly black and white. Sometimes grey. Usually black or grey straight leg pants and a white button down shirt. Yoga pants with a tank with a built in shelf bra around the house. When I went out I would throw a shirt over the tank. Easy, never have to think about it.

When I took up knitting I decided that I wasn’t going to knit with boring colors. I could buy clothes with boring colors why take the time to knit them? Knitting scarves and shawls and ponchos was an interesting way to add color and personality to my waiter chic outfits. But I’ve noticed that just within the last year my taste in clothing has been evolving into something kind of interesting and slightly disturbing.

It seems to be best described as a combination of six year-old dressing herself, punkish girl, and crazy old lady. Someone reminded me on Flickr that there’s also some wicked witch in there. I don’t want to be dull. I mean I know I’m crazy, that’s been confirmed by professionals, but I’m crazy in a funny cry for no reason not going to hurt anyone kind of way so it’s ok. I’m sick of being dull and I don’t entirely care what people think. And I’m enjoying being able to buy interesting punkish clothes again that are in my size since discovering Torrid. But lately I’ve had to check with Cody (not much of a fashion guy himself) if I look like a six year old girl that dressed herself.

He’s aware he doesn’t know anything about fashion though. Within about a year of living together I had a nice garranimals type of situation set up for him - with khaki pants, polo shirts, and socks - they all match - he can pick any one from the pile and they will match. But damned if I’m going to do that for myself!

So this is what I was wearing yesterday.

Those are striped knee socks scrunched down with pink birkenstocks and a black t-shirt dress with a tattoo image on the back. I’d worn it with black yoga pants and black chucks the night before. I thought it looked kind of neat. Crazy? definitely. Do I care? nah.