Did you ever ape the old cliché of the librarian ripping off her glasses and letting down her hair? I was a tomboy through to my core, but when no one was looking I’d try to have just a taste of what being a femme fatale was like. My costume of choice was a towel fashioned as a halter dress. it was inspired by Three’s Company, but always came out way more Mrs. Roper than Crissy. The tie would go in front, leaving me with a grapefruit sized knot at my throat.
I would put on my Oakland A’s batting helmet, tucking my hair in tight, and then putting on my dad’s thick eyeglasses. I’d have to lean into the mirror very close to get the full effect because his vision was pretty bad. Then I’d clutch the towel tight under one armpit, take the glasses off first, then the helmet and I’d shake my head to get the hair to fall around my shoulders.
Sometimes I’d lean into the mirror further and try to wink as I turned on one heel to walk away all sexy-like. As you can imagine most times I cracked myself up and grabbed my clothes so that I could go roller skate on the deck as Tear for Fears played from my little boom box.
About a month ago I got an invite to go to a murder mystery party for Halloween. My character? Jenna Mopez. It was a huge stretch for me and, quite possibly, one of the most fun experiences I have ever had pushing myself outside of my comfort zone.
The crazy experience taught me a couple of things:
I don’t have to be anyone else. When I tried adopting someone else’s defining (or recognizable) traits, I realized how special my own really are.
It’s ok to wear whatever you like; fashion, however you interpret it, is meant to be fun.
Pool is not meant to be played while wearing a floppy hat.
A little bit of attitude can trump fear.
Pleather doesn’t breathe.
Us moms could stand to channel a bit of the diva from time to time to help us discover a stronger voice. Try it.