Oh, September, you crazy rascal.

This evening I was wearing a sweet zip hoodie, a trendy plaid shirt, and one of those simple single-strap canvas side-satchels and when I caught myself making notes in my Orson Welles book, I realized I was someone else today. It's like that one freaky day I had about five years ago when I was wearing a certain combo of a fitted rugby shirt under a trendy ribbed sweater, pencil skirt (all very matching in color and style) and pseudo-dressy shoes and caught myself walking out of one of those big-box store plaza/strip malls - that was newly built at the time - with a crisp paper bag in my hand, newly-bought but not-needed clothing inside. On that day I shuddered and lamented aloud to the siblings I was with. "This isn't me!!" I shrieked. I'm thinking that if a stranger saw me, they'd have me pegged as someone I'm not.
(Then I wonder if the packaging matters.)

I've worn the individual pieces before, in different combos and it's still me-me. But sometimes the wrong combination gives a starkly different impression than everything else in one's repertoire. I suppose it's something like being able to pull a Hallowe'en costume out of your everyday wardrobe: it's about the combination, the accessories and the attitude, really.


I didn't mind being an Orson Welles reader today...But it was weird because I wasn't particularly thinking or feeling that today, I just wanted to read that book and wanted to wear those clothes. I'd have to have different shoes to really be that person I sort of looked like.
And just the other day I was thinking that I might not, for the first time in four years, buy Chuck Taylors as my next pair of shoes. I think this means I'm changing. I suppose that's OK. I'm just surprized...but hey - I'll take it over stagnation any day.
If I change my outer casing and feel MORE like myself and MORE comfortable then I'm game.