WRITING: What To Wear

In typical Susan style, I immersed myself in literary mode this weekend to the exclusion of the less exciting world of picture framing and housecleaning. My husband forced me to take a break by suggesting we take a quick ride uptown to a new nursery, not that he’s all that interested in landscaping, but I believe it was an effort on his part to gently remind me that we have grass, trees and missing flowers beyond the walls beyond the office, beyond the computer. He was even more subtle about maybe having something for dinner. He let his growling stomach serve as his voice.

I tend to remain true to myself in dress as well as other choices in life. My uniform for many years now has been jeans and plaid flannel shirts (t-shirts in summer) and I’ve become kind of a “camp” leader in our small town in setting fashion trends. But this long involvement with writing that’s got me in its grip perhaps deserves a more spiritual or aesthetic choice of apparel. I’m thinking flowing caftans and wild untamed hair, maybe larger gold hooped earrings.

This morning I dug through my closets and searched for my new look among thirty years’ worth of Susan moods. I throw nothing away. My niece found a Halloween costume here once when she wanted to dress as a hippie.

I found what I was looking for, and the freedom of flowing material swirled over my head to fall softly around my physical form which, in this state of mind, doesn’t matter–it’s my mind that counts. Felt good, freed from constricting waistbands, buttons, and rough denim. Ah, this is what a writer should wear. I went over to a mirror to glory in the physical change.

I looked the same as I always had in these outfits; like a highly artistic, colorful graffitied inner city fire hydrant.

In my next life, if I am still of a creative nature, I want to be at least five and a half feet tall.