Why do I wear what I wear?

I’m late this week. It was a crazy weekend. But, as they say, better late than never.

At least I wear clothes. You’d be sorry if I didn’t.

I dress funny. I wear what some people would call a mumu. One of the kids at work asked me just last week, “Why do you always wear those night gown dresses?”

Why? They’re loose and comfortable. I don’t like to be restricted.

And because they’re easy to make. I sew the yoke to the rest of the dress, sew a few hems, and I’m done.

I also make my own clothes because you simply can’t find store-bought clothes with the kind of printed fabrics I like. My current dresses are: a bright orange with yellow and leaves and blackbirds; bluebirds on autumn colored leaves; lizards on camouflage; a dress with mountains and cabins; a blue one with pink flowers; a turquoise with leaves. I have a couple of old ones I still wear once in awhile: frogs with hats and noise makers. I call them Fiesta Frogs; one that looks batique; a tye-dye that doesn’t have enough yellow in it; and one with pink and yellow flowers.

In the past I have worn poison dart frogs, chickens, more lizards, flowers, trees – anything that strikes my fancy at the fabric store. I have some chicken fabric in a drawer but I haven’t had time, or the inclination, to make it yet.

Over these dresses I wear a jacket, the kind that nurses wear. I buy them at the uniform store. I wear these because I MUST HAVE POCKETS. I can’t leave the house without pockets. I must always have a pen, paper, and business cards. And I don’t like to carry a purse when I’m shopping. Almost all of the purses I own are big enough to carry art supplies, my journal, and at least one book. These are the necessities of my life.

And what happens to these dresses when they wear out?

I wear them at home. I currently have a brightly colored lizard dress that is totally falling apart. The yoke is separating from the rest of the dress. One of the shoulder seams is being held together by a couple of threads. It has holes in it.

But. I. Can’t. Throw. It. Out.

I love that dress.

If they’re not TOO worn out, which they usually are, I might make them into shopping bags.

Shoes: My feet do not like to be in prison. I almost exclusively wear sandals, even in the winter. Sometimes, at school, I might put on socks because Teacher Monica gets cold looking at my bare toes.

When I go to the mountains, I wear moccasins.

When I move to Ireland I will probably have to wear real shoes. But until then my feet will enjoy their freedom.

Comfort and freedom.

Although freedom isn’t always comfortable.

But that’s another story for another day.