I thought my longstanding feud with Banana Republic was over when, after receiving a 30% off coupon from M on Friday, I actually found three articles of clothing that both fit and weren't ridiculously expensive. (Thanks M, by the way!)
This morning I was feeling pretty good about myself when I left my apartment. My new digs don't exactly scream supermodel, but I was happy to have added another element to my drab weekly rotation of work clothes. Nothing hides year old Naturalizers like a new button down cardigan... right?
My freshmen are rehearsing scenes for Romeo and Juliet, and I was working with a group of three girls this morning who are setting the final scene of the play, the scene where Romeo and Juliet lay dead and everyone mourns the tragedy, in a modern day classroom. Friar Lawrence will be portrayed as a nerdy student. The Price will actually a Princess, sitting at the front of the room doing her makeup. And Lady Capulet, overcome with grief, will be portrayed as the school teacher in a scene I think Shakespeare would find both hilarious and confusing at the same time.
'You've got to wear a nice outfit,' the girl playing the Princess told K, the girl playing the school teacher. 'Because teachers are supposed to dress nice.'
K pointed at me and said, 'Well I don't wanna look like her!'
I don't know what was more classic-- the look of horror on K's face when she realized she had just insulted me, or the peels of laughter that came from the other members of the group.
'Oh my god!' K shouted over the noise. 'I didn't mean that. I mean you look fine. I mean I just don't want to look like a teacher all day. I mean... it's just...'
No one laughed longer and louder than I did, and I think that's a mark of twenty nine years of taking myself way too seriously. A woman in her thirties can think of a lot worse things to look like than herself.