For the last decade or so, I have had absolutely no idea what sort of impression people take of me when we first meet in person. I’m guessing it must be a pretty “standard, normal, boring American human female,” because when people find out about the motorcycle competitions, and the skydiving, and the ranch-working, and the tattoos, and the body piercings, and the airplanes, and the generally pretty adventurous life I’ve had now and then… they kind of do a double-take.
Now granted; I no longer wear my adventurous spirit so much on the outside. Having gone through my Goth phase sophomore year in college, I’ve pretty much stuck with “what’s comfortable” after that, rather than trying to develop any kind of personal style that might reflect Who I Am to any degree. I haven’t felt a great need to say “REPRESSED ADRENALINE JUNKIE” on a t-shirt.
Similarly, I trend away from trends. If something is the latest, greatest, most-unbelievably-hyped thing… I will go in either a perpendicular or at least tangential direction in most cases. I don’t like like to be part of the herd for these kinds of things. I dislike hype intensely. Mostly. Anyhow. So clothes and accessories do not convey who I am or what I’m about. It’s difficult to subtly convey “I’d rather be jumping out of airplanes than sitting at a desk.”
I’ve been wearing do-rags the last few days, because they work really well at keeping my bangs out of my face, and they’re about the only headgear I can wear without looking like a complete dork. Generally, I only wear these in private, actually, because of that very thing – I think I look weird with stuff on my head.
But lately, the bangs have driven me bonkers, so out the kerchiefs came. No less than 5 people have commented on it, surprised. I wonder what they see when they see the do-rag? Hippie? Peasant? Biker? Feeble attempt at reclaiming, perhaps, the grunge years?
“Did you join the Sons of Anarchy, Erin?”
Dudes – it’s just to keep the hair out of my damn face. Honestly.
What the heck are people going to say if I start wearing comfy skirts?
Fortunately, I am of a mind not to care too much, and my radical fashion shifts probably won’t be much more than a small blip on most peoples’ radar.
On an almost similar note, the people who know me and have known me for a long while are shocked at all the quilting and the efforts at homemaking and the talk of holy shit babies. They know that’s fairly a radical departure from someone who might, say, find a new job and move across the country within two weeks of thinking it might be a good idea.
Putting down roots, settling in, nesting, finding stability – this is absolutely insane for a wandering little thrill pilgrim.
Yet here I am, and I’m happy.
Mind you, I might be happier with a two-wheeled vehicle in the garage, but all in good time.
I suppose I do look pretty vanilla, act pretty vanilla, and generally, I am. I don’t live life radically, seizing every single moment, making the most of every possible second. I’ve settled into a comfortable, yet lazy, series of patterns over the last few years. While I do need to start being more physically active before I actually develop my own gravity field, I’m content staying at home. This causes me a little concern from time to time, like I’m losing a part of myself. My idea of adventurousness now consists of teaching myself how to knit? WTF.
Balance has never been my forte; I’m a balls-out or… “balls-in?” … sort of girl. OMGHI or totally mousey. It’s all contextual and based on comfort zones and passions and where on the scale of How Much Does This Interest Me something falls.
When I’m 80 and looking back, I will probably kick myself for all the hours wasted on video games and television, and that’s a pity, but it’s difficult to summon the energy to break these apathetic cycles.
Man, I had a point here when I started and then work happened and I got all sidetracked. Hate it when I lose my train of thought!
At any rate. Just me bumping into and poking at my boundaries here, out loud, dragging you along with me.
Carry on. 😀