I will do all kinds of foolish, silly things in an effort to hurry Spring. Although I know very well that painting my toenails, drinking coca-cola or opening all the windows in my house will not make the warm weather come faster, I am stubborn enough to suffer and shiver in these false attempts.
My latest idea: the sundress. I decided on a whim to wear one, despite February arriving with its appropriate chill this warm winter. We just got home from vacation/job-interviewing in the midwest Colorado region and the aparment was a disaster. I threw on a black, professional looking knee-length…and began to clean.
I had an epiphany while brewing *some more* coffee and catching the dirty water dripping from boots to my floor. I looked at the constricting, straight-seamed skirt of my dress and my now-clean kitchen and laughed. Well darn, if I ain’t the 1950s reincarnated! I do love the ’50s so it wasn’t a large surprise, but there seemed to be something rather ridiculous about cleaning my floor in the same fancy getup I’ve worn to past funerals.
The smell of a fresh, newly-cleaned room is a more divine scent than baked apples or fresh coffee–one of many reasons that I actually enjoy cleaning. But I’ve never had more fun dusting each shelf than in my Little Black Dress. I felt sexy rather than frumpy and also professional and responsible. That’s when the truth about the 1950 housewives cracked my thick skull like a broken high heel: they found dresses not constricting, but–dare I say it?–empowering! Their dresses were not their limitations, but rather a feminine identity they felt threated to lose. My revelation, while not original, still felt inspired at the time. I wanted to throw open my frost-etched windows and yell: “It is glorious to be a woman!”
Glory does not miracles make, however. The snow has not melted; ice continues to make walking treacherous. My spring fever has me pouring over gardening magazines/blogs. Apparently, sun dresses influence the weather as well as painted toe nails. But I continue to shop for even more dresses; I think the next one I’ll buy will be a polka dot print.
My next attempt: fresh strawberry pie. Come quickly, Spirng. Come quickly.