Thursday, May 5, 2011

Of Cups and Clothes


The mug in this picture is one of my favorites. It was purchased at the bed & breakfast where my husband and I honeymooned in the San Bernardino Mountains. I love wrapping my hands around it’s warm belly on a cold, rainy morning while I breathe in the hot, brown scent of hot coffee.

Next to the mug is a tea cup in my parents’ Royal Doulton wedding pattern. I inherited the set from my mother when Brian and I married. Drinking from this tea cup feels different from drinking out of my big green mug, and it makes me feel different. The tea cup encourages me to sit up straight, to hold my cup carefully, to sip slowly. I relish the quiet clink of the cup foot on the saucer and try to see how softly I can set it down.
In a similar way, I think something happens when we, as women, wear skirts. They just feel different; they demand a different way of moving and sitting. They even encourage a different mode of behavior and we--and others--view us differently when we wear them. For better or worse, skirts feel different than pants.
There are days when nothing will do but a flannel shirt and a comfy pair of blue jeans. For raking leaves or riding horses. For the fifth day in a row without sunshine. For the good cry.
And, then there are days—so many days—for twirling pretty in tiered cotton. For tying apron strings over skirt waists. For slipping on fabric-skin of femininity and saying yes to beauty; yes I am a woman, beautiful.
A version of this post originally appeared in January 2010. I apologize that I was unable to transfer comments. Know that your thoughts are always welcome.

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