I have found my people. All these years of not fitting in, and here are my people, in the
I’m only talking about clothes, here. Obviously I don’t have much in common with all the people who have never left the mountains save for a trip to
c. 2002-2004, Rwanda: I bring lots of long skirts to Rwanda, hoping to be culturally appropriate, only to have the staff of our partner organizations look at me climbing a mountain in a long skirt and hiking boots and ask, “Don’t you have any TROUSERS?” I immediately send for jeans to be brought with the next available traveler. The jeans turn out to be too big, but what choice do I have? I wear them every day.
But now I’m here in
Then I wore a suit for a day in court, and I did the unthinkable: I tucked in my shirt. I haven’t tucked in a shirt since the high school days when that “blousing” thing was all in and I wore really big shirts and pulled them out so they would stick out. Those days were bad. I’m trying to forget them. But then I was going to court and my shirt was long enough to stick out under my jacket and so I tucked it in.
I looked mad professional.
In the one place where I don’t have to be. In the one place where the attorneys wear their own down vests in court, I was wearing a tucked-in button down shirt, a suit, and heels.
Still, I looked hot.