Last night, on my way home I noticed a cute girl on MUNI. She was about my height. She had blond hair. It was styled yet messy. Her roots were showing slightly. They were darker than the hair around her face. But they weren’t the crop of a lazy gardener. It was the hair color of an active girl, one who spends time in the sun. She wore thick, dark-rimmed glasses. She wore a green sweater over a gray T-shirt. She wore fitted, faded blue jeans and a black belt. Her belly was slightly exposed, but by accident. She looked good. No, she looked great. Her clothing wanted to be there.
There was me. I wore a red over-stretched cardigan I purchased while I was in college. I wore jeans. They are blue as well.They don’t fit me properly. But I got them on sale in the men’s department. My cardigan covered a black sweater I purchased at Target. I don’t wear my glasses because I don’t need them. Even though I like the way they look. My hair is totally in need of a trim but having just moved here I don’t know where to buy bread let alone where to go for a haircut.
If my clothing could vote, it’d choose to be draped across a more attractive, active body. There are times I am forced to free my clothing from a fat roll. There are other moments where I am forced to separate my shirt from my breasts. It’s as if they’re always fighting. I hate pulling them away from one another while we’re in public.
I haven’t felt too good about myself, lately. And it’s amplified now that I’m new to a place, now that I’m different. Before we moved west from Washington D.C. I was doing yoga four times a week. I was also watching what I ate and following a pretty regular routine. And now? Now, I buy a yoga magazine and think about going to the local studio (every once and a while). And I eat donuts. I haven’t ever cared for donuts, but I have been eating them lately. And there’s nothing good about this cycle. Except that I’ve grown really very good at admiring other women and what they wear. Something needs to change again. Something.
I am discovering that (sometimes) all it takes is to notice someone on a train and be intrigued enough to explore imaginary trails. And to understand that there’s always room to change your real ones. I have always envied those who chase possibilities and discover new places without knowing what it was he or she might find, if they should find anything at all. Yesterday, as I caught my self-loathing reflection in a San Francisco storefront window, I realized I am living the life of a person I have at one time admired, one who explores change.
I’d like to believe that the green cardigan-wearing gal I saw on the MUNI yesterday notices her reflection from time to time in a storefront window and discovers how good she looks. And today, I’d like to take a moment to thank her for pushing my sorry ass into joining our local gym last night.
(Joining a gym means you automatically lose weight, right?)
You know I have been a bum lately too and I hate the way I feel when I do that to myself!! I know when I work out and eat right I feel amazing! But then you stop doing the right things and you get in a rut! And its really hard getting back into healthy living! I almost have to be disgusted with myself to start back in it! But thanks for that great insight today! It really has made my day!
i know the feeling. Going back to work in an office after a 3 year hiatus means dusting off my old “good clothes” and trying not to reveal the holes & stains (food, sweat, misc.)that have set in. And maybe trying to still be comfortable? and not feel ugly? not wanting to draw too much attention to myself while still trying to make a good impression… ugh.
I could have written that. Yes.
…but it’s funny you should say this, mihow. When we were in DC i was admiring the sweater you were wearing- stylish, warm & fuzzy, seemed to suit you very well. I envied you & your sweater, feeling very uncomfortable in my owm skin & the clothes i had packed for the trip. I think, for me anyway, it depends on the weather & the day i’m having.
Weird. You freak. I got a story about that weekend and to further feed the girl talk. Though it was a mere glimpse, as Mitch was showing me your pictures on your laptop, there was one he had taken of you on the bed in your hotel room in DC. I thought, “Damn! What i wouldn’t give to be sitting there like that. On a hotel bed, slightly hunched over, wearing nothing but a towel on my head and STILL manage to look sexy.” (Gina = sexy. Don’t let her fool you.)
p.s. Gina, if the above is too pesonal, let me know, I’ll remove it.
I can relate to what Gina is saying. Even though I am not working in the traditional sense, just going to Berkeley once week for class was enough to make me realize how unstylish (sp?) and out of shape I have become. In my working-pre-baby days, I was running three days a week and playing soccer and doing loads of other stuff. Now I am lucky if I can drag myself out of bed to run at least once a week, let alone wear stylish clothing!
As long as you don’t post the picture! :)
and thanks for the complement… although my favorite part of that photo is the giant red airducts that popped up right outside of our hotel room window.
Cat, we’ll just have to do something about that together now won’t we? While I fear those massive Noe Valley hills, I’ll work my way up to them and then up them (hopefully) after trying the gym for a few weeks. Perhaps we could take bike rides though? Or walks?
Mihow…it will be all good…this is the adjustment phase. I saw this article and had to write about it http://irwinfletcher.blogspot.com/2004/05/must-be-bank.html …too gross and too funny.
I like the walking bit. My bike is in a bit worse shape than I am! Lets try to do that a couple nights a week. Especially since now it doesn’t get dark until 8 something….
I’m starting to believe that it doesn’t really ever get dark in San Francisco. We could walk all night long.
Mihow! Man, did you ever capture that appearance angst. But I was SO glad to see you giving yourself props for being someone who seeks out change in their life! I think some cities, especially one like SF, are peopled with such hip chic people it can be a tough adjustment if you come from somewhere where people don’t have that “thang” going on (we won’t talk about where I live and how people wear their slippers to the post office)—but I know youwill absorb it and one day soon someone’s gonna notice you on the train and go, damn, she is so chic! Her clothes LURVE her. smile
Let’s walk to DC and back! That will get us in shape!
ok, Forrest.