Today I finally found it: the innocuous box in the attic containing my annual rite of passage, my Christmas in Springtime: opening my box of summer clothes.
These are the clothes I sullenly pack away each winter, long after I’ve had any need of them. After spending a couple months in denial, holding out hope that thirty-degree temperatures might randomly give way to sundress weather, I surrender to reality: it’ll be months before these gams or arms see the light of day, hidden instead under jeans and sweaters. In packing my cute little clothes and putting them in a box and out of sight, I hope that my winter clothes might look relatively cuter. They never do. The typical winter depression sets in: I consider cutting my hair, perhaps going a shade darker; loose sweaters become the tempting alternative to early morning trips to the gym in the cold dark; old college sweatshirts become my January through March uniform. Femininity withers.
But here comes the sun, doo-dee-doo-doo. It’s been warm in Charlotte for some time (have I mentioned how much I love the weather here?), but I couldn’t find that damn box anywhere. My summer clothes went MIA, gone when I needed them most. As other women breezed about town in adorable skirts or sundresses, I’ve moped about in jeans and tank tops, a mere blazer short of an autumn outfit. But today, armed with determination and a flashlight, I returned to the attic to find the box. Between the box of Christmas decorations and a box that hasn’t been unpacked since two houses ago, sat Box o’ Xanadu: my summer clothes.
I felt like Dorothy. No, it wasn’t a dream, it was a season. And you were there, pink mini-skirt. And you, blue sundress – and you, off-the-shoulder good-luck party shirt. And you were all there. Doesn’t anyone believe me?
Oh, but anyway, pink and orange bikini with matching sarong, we’re home. There’s no place like Spring-time, there's no place like Spring-time...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
While I appreciate the sentiment of your marvelously artistic writing, I really must insist that you think again about the joy of winter. Ahh, to snuggle up in a cozy sweater with a cup of hot chocolate. It's only April and I'm sick of the shorts and sandals that life in Florida requires. It's too hot for cute outfits as they just wilt the moment you step outside. I also have to spend my day watching out for flying monkeys, so you don't know how lucky you have it.
I do get the winter thing, and I'll cop to missing snow now that I'm "down South." But I could fit all my winter-snuggle-cocoa needs into a two week period, then POW, ready for Springtime, baby.
Florida has flying monkeys??? Dammit, another item for my phobia list...
Post a Comment