New Year – new questions… Not the “who am I - why am I here” variety, oh no - much more serious than that! More like “what is my signature perfume, and why can’t I find a style of dressing that is me”? Or here’s one – what drink am I? Am I a light beer or a martini?; and why can’t I make up my mind and stick to it long enough to be that me? Tonight I am a light beer, jeans tucked into over the knee boots, black T kind of girl.. But this girl is wearing Chanel No. 5. Doesn’t add up does it? I want to be the chic sassy lady a la Kidman or Monroe for that matter, who slept in this scent… but alas it just isn’t me. So do I go back to Armani, and keep the boots? Do I drink a margarita with that look? I mean really, none of this matters to anyone but me, right? And yet to me it feels like if I can’t even work out what my “look”, drink or scent is, then how do I find myself?… So that takes me back to the who am I question, I thought I wasn’t asking myself. I thought by the time I was heading toward the big 30, I would be a sorted individual. I believed I would have found the look, the drink, the real deal – the real me. I was wrong. I bought Dita’s book today, but only because the “Team” shirts aren’t out yet. The practice of putting women on pedestals began to die out when it was discovered that they could give orders better from there.
Friday, January 12, 2007
New Year – new questions… Not the “who am I - why am I here” variety, oh no - much more serious than that! More like “what is my signature perfume, and why can’t I find a style of dressing that is me”? Or here’s one – what drink am I? Am I a light beer or a martini?; and why can’t I make up my mind and stick to it long enough to be that me? Tonight I am a light beer, jeans tucked into over the knee boots, black T kind of girl.. But this girl is wearing Chanel No. 5. Doesn’t add up does it? I want to be the chic sassy lady a la Kidman or Monroe for that matter, who slept in this scent… but alas it just isn’t me. So do I go back to Armani, and keep the boots? Do I drink a margarita with that look? I mean really, none of this matters to anyone but me, right? And yet to me it feels like if I can’t even work out what my “look”, drink or scent is, then how do I find myself?… So that takes me back to the who am I question, I thought I wasn’t asking myself. I thought by the time I was heading toward the big 30, I would be a sorted individual. I believed I would have found the look, the drink, the real deal – the real me. I was wrong. I bought Dita’s book today, but only because the “Team” shirts aren’t out yet.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment