My western hat and inner self

‘Do you like my hat?’

‘No, I do not like your hat.’

‘Goodbye.’

‘Goodbye.’

Today, I remained calm and present, and I constantly re-evaluated to establish that I was remaining as such and that I also was remaining myself… and then I told the hat guys exactly what my predicament was, using the words that were my own and not borrowed or copied or made to look like others – all my own words, and honestly expressed.

They chuckled at my chosen words, but proved easily that my concern and desire were understood , and then, beautifully, they resolved my concern and fulfilled my desire… that is, I am happy and comfortable to put on my black hat now, because it is shaped properly to look good on me.

It may sound silly, but imagine wearing a vest that is designed for huge breasts on a big person, and has just been incorrectly sized down to a small, and so no part of it actually fits properly, and there are buckles and bulges everywhere (despite the fact that there aren’t such buckles and bulges on my actual body), making me look totally misshapen from a reasonably healthy and fit adult female.

Add to that horrendous vest that engulfs me oddly, a hat that just looks hideous on me.

Now imagine how difficult it is to feel beautiful and confident and proud walking around in these, crossing thousands upon thousands of people while wearing it.

It’s quite terrible, really.

If you want to use modern lingo borrowed from Japan/Japanese, we can say easily in the KonMari method’s words that this outfit does not spark joy… not one bit.

So, now let’s look at my request of the hat guys to ‘make my hat not look terrible on me, because I would really like not to be so upset every time I see myself in the mirror and discover again how bad this hat looks on me’z

Not a traditional request, but a clear-communicating and honest one to boot… and they delivered.

It was a unique yet delightful – and not in a vain way but in an appreciative way – experience to have these two young guys over and over again look at me and my face, and evaluate how I come across… he would do some shaping on the hat, have me set it on my head for a minute, and examine critically.

At the end, their critical eyes announced that I looked really good.

Of course, the conversation was founded in the hat’s presence being what we wanted to look good, however, it was fun and odd and good to have the additional communication of ‘you look good’, and without any aims at getting into my pants – they genuinely love working with hats and helping people love their own hats.

It was really a beautiful experience all around.

(Including the part where my mom didn’t like the pointed curve pieces, and so I went back and told the guys such, and so he smoothed out the pointy bends and re-evaluated, honestly declaring that it actually did look even better without them now.)

While waiting for all of this to happen, I watched the guys work, shaping hats both newly and as reshaping… and it was totally beautiful – I found myself longing to take photos of their working hands…

… and so I told them so…

… and now I am anxiously awaited to return to do just that… I almost couldn’t believe it, but they were delighted at the idea of my photographing them working, and happily invited me to come any time throughout the rest of the rodeo to do so.

When I went back for the pointedness fix, I restarted that I would see them again soon, so that I could take photos, and they both stood a bit taller and opened their eyes and smiles lots wider, delight shining clearly outward.

And that gave me an awesome feeling… I can hardly wait to have that be a norm for me and my life. ūüôā

All of this from trusting God and being true to myself and my intentions and goals… wonderful day.

Now do you like my hat?’

‘Yes!’

P.S. Bonus points for knowing where my mom and I got the conversations up at the top and down at the bottom, one which we actually had after the first round of hat shaping, when she said she didn’t like the corners.

Post-a-day 2019

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Teatime with the girls

A sort of short story about a girl’s casual, 30-second train of thought.

……………………………………………..

“…I go on a job interview there, and that’s how we finally meet up, and discover that we really do like one another in a dating capacity. ¬†And so, I start working over there, and we start dating. ¬†That’s easy enough, you see,” says Eliza.

“Okay…” replies Karen speculatively. ¬†“And then?”

“Well, and then we realize that we totally love one another,” continues Eliza, “and we’re ready to get married. ¬†But the question is whether we get married here or over there. ¬†If we got married there, it would be totally classy and cool, but then all of my family and friends here likely would miss out. ¬†But then, I think, what people here do I really care about having at my wedding? ¬†Most of them would be invited only so I could show off my amazing husband and wedding to them, anyway. ¬†And wouldn’t it be accomplishing the same thing by getting married in Europe instead, where my husband is from? ¬†It shows how he’s exotic, and so am I, getting married over there. ¬†Plus, then all the ladies could wear their fabulous hats and everything would be so chic and practically straight out of some fashion magazine.
“I would have a dress that is inspired from the princesses’ wedding dresses in London over the years, with a hint of French flare and loads of my own personality, all tied together beautifully and stunningly.”

Karen cuts her off, “You have the dress planned already?”

“Well,¬†I’m not sure about the whole thing exactly, but I know how the sleeves would look, and they’re spectacular and classy. ¬†And YES, they¬†do exist, despite all this recent fashion of sleeveless wedding dresses. ¬†So not my style.”

Karen shakes her head, and takes a sip of tea as Eliza continues.

“Anyway, so that could be cool. ¬†And we’d have a super-fab old Church for the wedding, and that would be amazing and¬†not clich√©, because it’s actually just normal in Europe. ¬†But then, we’d have to have some kind of something here in the US afterward. ¬†I’m not sure what, exactly, but something to celebrate specifically with everyone here who couldn’t make the trip. ¬†But nothing lame. ¬†Too many people do a lame ‘Oh, we couldn’t invite all of you to the wedding, but we still want to celebrate with you’. ¬†Aka ‘Give us presents, even though you weren’t good enough to be invited to the wedding.’ ¬†Not to be harsh, but you get the point…”

“Who’s she talking about?” whispers Lorena, who has just returned from flirting at the tea bar.

“The guy from the photo I showed you yesterday,” replies Karen, sighing. ¬†Lorena accepts this, and begins to process what Eliza is saying.

“Then we’d continue living over there, and it’d be perfect, because it lines up with my wanting to live over there, and we’d be so close for an easy trip up to visit Christine and her husband whenever we wanted for a long weekend or whatever. ¬†Or I could go alone super easily.”

Astounded, Lorena cuts in, “You mean you’ve already decided on wedding plans with this guy?! ¬†You haven’t even gone on a date, yet!”

“He hasn’t even asked her out,” chuckles Karen.

Only slightly defensively, Eliza replies cooly, “Well, if we can’t agree on a wedding location and place to live, then it isn’t really worth bothering dating in the first place, now¬†is it? ¬†We’d be wasting our time if we knew so soon that it never would work out, yet went forward with it all, anyway.”

“She has a point,” allows Karen, raising her eyebrows.

After a pause, Lorena replies, “True… ¬†I still hold that you’re nuts, Eliza.”

“I’ll second that,” throws in Karen.

“Third it!” laughs Eliza. ¬†“Oh, I know I’m totally nuts. ¬†That’s why it’s so important that a guy and I be compatible through and through before we bother starting anything.”

They erupt in giggles and laughter, enjoying the ridiculousness of the conversation, and knowing how true Eliza’s statement really is.

“Weirdo,” says Lorena, playfully. ¬†“Okay, let’s have some lunch. ¬†I’m hungry, and now all I can think about is smoked salmon…”

The other two frown questioningly at her.

“What? ¬†You were talking about weddings. ¬†Weddings always make me think of smoked salmon.”

“Weirdo.”

“Total weirdo.”

Lorena laughs, “Whatever.”

……………………………………………..

Post-a-day 2018