Wildfox Couture sweatshirt, Topshop shorts, Report Signature shoes via shopbop.com, Topshop sequin headband
I had said a few posts ago that I want to maximize this space and share my extraneous, un-fashion-related thoughts with you… so here they are. This weekend, I threw my hair up in a bun (one of those that go through the motions of being a ponytail only that you loop the hair forward half way and let the ends fall as they may), put on a silk dress that I deem casual because it’s one of those loose dresses that I wear off the shoulder and looks like I just threw it on a second ago and may have run out of the house without a thong, and my beach flip-flops that I don’t care about, hence the puddle of mud that my foot was subjected to as I tried to get into the car tonight armed with Pinkberry. I purposely left the house without makeup on and covered half my face up with my oversized Gucci prescription sunglasses that I only wear when I’m bare-faced (the frames touch my face so no makeup equals no chance of messing up my makeup). And away we went to the movies to see “Away We Go”.
Once we stepped foot in the rather cozy theater, I thought it was rather odd that two gentlemen in their late-60s to early 70s were seeing this movie about a young couple trying to figure out their future for the sake of their unborn child given their past influences and present circumstances. About eight minutes later two women, presumably their wives, chatted their way into the theater in the row behind us to sit next to the men (making the current audience only us and them). I didn’t turn around to see them because I didn’t care to. And I didn’t turn around when amidst the low obligatory music that’s supposed to entertain you even though a blank screen is staring back at you, the woman asked her friend if she could see. Her response was, “Yes”, to which the woman persisted, “Are you sure?”. A second “Yes” ensued and the space’s intimacy had the woman’s concerns ringing in my ears. Her concerns were because of my bun- described above, but today I made it a point to neatly tuck my unruly ends into my rubber band. I was off to the movies with my decency in tact! (Exclaimed with sarcasm.) Since I’m a pretty- scratch that, overly considerate individual, I thought, “Hmm, I suppose I can take my hair down since I don’t really care what I look like at this point. Clearly, I don’t care since I don’t have any makeup on and I’ll be in the dark for 1 hour and 37 minutes.” As I entertained the idea for about five seconds amidst the silence (at this point, the woman’s inferences to my hair were unpleasantly entertaining me and therefore replaced said obligatory entertaining music), the woman stated, “It’s like a tower.” Her friend who was the target of my “tower” didn’t reply a “Yes” this time, but instead replied with silence. The husbands didn’t utter a word and I just looked to my right at Bec, wanting to turn around but refraining from doing a complete 360 to do so. So I stayed at my 180 angle for ten seconds as I decided this foolish woman was not worth any words back. The women then got up and moved into our row a seat down from me in front of their husbands. I looked at the husbands for the first time and then looked at the short-haired women. They looked more dated than their counterparts and that woman’s tact may have been lost with age, or as I suspect, may have just never been there to begin with.
I didn’t get riled up because she insulted me. Because she did not. She insulted my two second hair style. Now if she insulted one of my innate features that I can’t control in two seconds, I would have somehow tripped in my chair causing my bag of popcorn that was grounded firmly between my legs to somehow soar through the air to my left, getting stuck in her curly hair that she had fluffed out with a salmon pink pick (I’m sure). While I understand freedom of speech and exercise it fully, I do still believe in tact. I believe that when you are breathing a few inches away from someone that you don’t say a negative comment about that person- this includes controllable attributes- in a volume that’s used at a dinner table for eight. It’s not every day that my hair gets a shout out, especially from a woman with enough years of experience to know better. And while I wished I could watch them in my version of “Away They Go”, I asked myself a question that I should have asked Bec in a senior citizen audible volume to break the deafening silence- How can I be expected to respect my elders when they don’t respect me?