WHERE DOES QUIRKY END AND MENTAL ILLNESS BEGIN?

I have been an incredibly SLOPPY dresser almost all of my life.

The 60's and 70's allowed the excuse of jeans and baggy T-shirts in the name of ‘freedom’ (just take away the cigarette in the photo to the left, and that's me). I was never involved in any social activity that demanded any other sort of attire. I could use drab and loose clothing to fade into the wallpaper, since for much of my young life I felt that it was where I belonged.

But moving into an office environment taught me to survive with two jackets, three skirts and a handful of tops. I could happily exist with three pairs of shoes (running, work and everyday), make-up was always minimal, my hair remained short, straight and while incredibly boring, infinitely manageable.

And I must admit I ADORE uniforms - no clothing class, concerns about color combinations and/or hemlines. Plus if FedEx and UPS guys weren't so quickly indentificable, we would have less time to check out their fantastic legs.

When “casual attire” came in, it took me a couple of jobs to learn my beloved jeans and baggy T-shirts were not it - however, khakis and knit tops did not require nylons or heels.

Wait a minute, where was I going with this?

Oh, yes - quirky vs. eccentric is wherein lies the dilemma (and I just love that word, dilemma - but when you say it like "dee-LEMMM-a!!").

I'm at the crossroads of my fashion (or lackthereof) life.

I am old enough that I am 1) not trying to attract any men, 2) am not moving forward professionally (understatement of the decade there, my friends) and/or 3) I honestly simply don't care very much about other people's opinions.

However, AM I now old enough to begin dressing seriously like a crazy old lady who wanders in the park talking to the pigeons?

I think I want to be.

TODAY WE MOURN THE PASSING

My blue jeans, age three, died today, July 31, 2009, in Palominas of natural causes.

Mr. Blue Jeans was born October 3, 2005 at the Levi Strauss Company in Beijing China, of multiple denim sources, rivets and various blue dyes. He was packaged and shipped to the United States, where I purchased them at (of course) my local Target store.

Mr. Jeans had been involved in multiple paint jobs, horse training, long drives and blog composing. His color gradually faded from dark blue to the lightest possible blue, even after being washed reliably in only the cold water cycle.

Yesterday, an obvious worn patch was noticed when a portion of my leg became completely exposed to view, and today, tragically, Mr. Jeans was caught on a wire fence and torn terminally on the left side.

Mr. Jeans is being laid to rest this evening in the outside trash container, and will be conveyed to the landfill on Tuesday, our next scheduled trash pick-up day.

Condolences and any expressions of chocolate may be sent directly to this blogsite.