"Hey, lady, put me down! I see a fly I need to catch. Mommyyyy! Put me down right this second or I will chew on your new blazer while you're sleeping!"
Black satin shorts, Weekday. Off-white pin-striped blazer, Emporio Armani. White t-shirt, Johanna Vikman. My new chunky heels, Vagabond.
Isn't it funny how a few weeks of warm weather can change the way you look at things? At least that's what I've just realized. You see, I used to be extremely uncomfortable wearing shorts with bare legs. I never liked my legs, and though I've learned to tolerate them, I'd still rather not show them off unless I really have to.
But then I started waking up every morning to warm, glowing sunlight, and full length pants were usually not an option. Incidentally, this was about the same time as I decided to start my blog. So time and time and time again - and then a few more times - I didn't just wear shorts, flaunting my pale legs "irl" all day, I even uploaded photos of them online.
At first, I had to have a serious talk with myself every time: "stop being such a baby! People have other things to care about than your legs. Yes, there are plenty of girls out there who have longer legs, thighs that are skinnier or more fit, less knobbly knees, whatever. But there are also a lot of people with shorter, curvier legs - do you find them less attractive? Maybe you think that they shouldn't wear shorts or post outfit photos at all? Oh, that's not what you think? Good. I thought so. Then get over yourself already."
But the sunshine was here to stay, and as the weeks passed, I stopped having that silly pep talk before pressing the "publish post"-button. I didn't need it anymore, I didn't even think about it. My legs were just legs, the shorts just... shorts. Like they had been the whole time. I just hadn't seen it.
So, I do think it's funny how we get used to things. For better or for worse. I've had the same experience with make up - during periods of time when I've been all dolled up every day, I've almost started crying at night when I wash my face and see how "old" and "ugly" I look without all those products covering me up. When that happens, I know it's time to not wear any make up at all. Sure, the first couple of days I'll feel like shit and think insane and self-obsessed thoughts like "I can't go to the grocery store like this, I just can't, people will laugh or throw up when they see me" (yeah, I'm well aware that I'm a total drama queen and somewhat crazy). But then, given some time, I'll forget why I even used to bother wearing make up. "Why would I? I look awesome without it, why waste time and energy putting a bunch of greasy stuff on my face!" (And later, I'll be going to a party and decide to put some macara and lipstick on, and I'll be like "wow, I look so different, maybe I should do this more often" - and so it begins again.)
I very much hope that the same thing can eventually happen when it comes to grieving the loss of the person you love the most. That one day I will get used to waking up in the morning knowing she won't be there. That I won't pick up the phone, ready to dial her number and tell her all about this really funny thing I just heard, only to put it down again and fall to pieces. That, at some point in the distant future, I will be able to think of her without feeling like I'm going to suffocate, but instead remember all the beauty she brought to my life. I don't believe that "time heals all wounds", but I hope that time will help me get used to living without her.
Changing the subject! My mom gave me this blazer when I was in Stockholm on Monday, she never wears it anymore and figured it would look good on me. I don't know what you guys think, but I for one find it amazing. I have tons of blazers: a few black ones, some in navy blue (four of those, actually), the salmon pink one, a grey one, one in bright purple - but, for some reason, none in a lighter shade. Until now! It's sort of off/creamy white, with silky pin stripes, and it's so beautiful. I feel very elegant, business-like and a lot like a grown-up in it, haha! Which is probably about freakin' time. We have a saying in Sweden that's like "well, I'm not twenty anymore", and I sure am not. Thank God for that. Twenty was a crappy year in my life. Getting older is probably that best thing that's ever happened to me.
