the clothes on our backs

hey gang!

It’s been a few days since I’ve posted here and it’s mostly because things are moving and shaking in these parts. There have been scavenger hunts to organize (did you know I was a sort of freelance scavenger hunt creator?), among other things, so life has been pleasantly busy.

And for this lady, who hates having nothing to do, to be busy is to be happy.

Today I threw together a quick little outfit, really without much thought, but as I went about my day, I couldn’t help but think about what I was wearing. It wasn’t really anything special or spectacular (in fact, I looked pretty gross, truth be told), but there were lovely memories associated with each item.

My fringe moccasins? I spent the last little tiny bit of my paycheck on them in Lyon, France, when I was a language assistant in La Rochelle. I had seen them in a few magazines, and when they beckoned my name through the shop window, my impulse gave a resounding ‘OUI’.

My jeans (er, jeggings)? I found them in a thrift store a few months ago in Seattle in the Capitol Hill district. It was a last minute grab off the rack and they ended up being my ‘go-to’ pants. Plus, they came with a little bit of glitter, which begs the questions – what were these pants in their former life?

My shirt? A red and white stripped number that I bought on the Normandie coast in France. I’m telling you, it was in a store filled with stripes. Socks, shirts, hats, blankets, bags – everything had Breton stripes. I was so elated, I left my phone there.

It was a rag-tag, odd combination of clothing, but it was great to take these memores with me as I tackled my day.


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