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Maybe the gaggle of seniors assumed I had to be a boy because I was doing the heavy lifting, but really, it's because my brother had made me do it. I'm sure, however, that my short Dorothy Hamill wedge haircut, blue Puma sneakers, boxy jeans and oversized polo shirt didn't exactly shout, "I'm the sister."
I didn't correct them. I was too embarrassed, especially after my brother collapsed in a heap of laughter right in the middle of the hotel lobby. Besides, I knew even at 12 that I was anything but a girly girl. And, except for the year I was four and insisted on wearing black patent leather Mary Janes with every outfit, I've never really tried to be. I was, and still am, a no frills kind of girl.
When I dress for a semi-formal event, my heels are rarely taller than two inches -- you just never know when you might need to run. Besides, any higher and I'll see that the top of the fridge needs dusting, and who wants that? I don't buy outfits that require special bras, or blouses that can pop open when you're busy rooting through the hors d'oeuvres. Much of the time, I wear little makeup, because I'm usually on my way to the gym, anyway. And I often shave up only to the hem of my Capri pants, because really, why bother shaving what no one's going to see?
But now I've gone and taken it a bit too far. I have purchased several pairs of fleece socks and yet, I do not live in bitter cold Canada. Rather, I live in New Jersey, where the average winter temperature is 34 degrees - not even below freezing. I don't work on a fishing boat, and I don't spend large amounts of time hovering in the woods waiting for deer or ducks or whatever to come into my sites. I bought my "doubly warm and static free!" ThermaCheck fleece socks for one reason: They are pretty darn comfortable.
I know this flies in the face of all things womanly, because I've watched Oprah. She wears stylish, very high-heeled shoes and boots because they look great on TV while complimenting her frilly blouses and flowing curly hair. Oprah would never wear fleece socks in front of other people unless she was filming a holiday special in front of a fireplace. Then she could say that they were among her "Favorite Things" for when she's snowed in in frigid Chicago in January.
But I cram my toasty socks into my snow boots or my "all weather mocs" and go out in public to the kids' school, the supermarket and church, where other women actually go socklessin their high heels, clogs or Mary Janes, even when the temperature drops below 50 degrees. Go figure. Their feet look great, but mine feel great.
And so, I will wear my gray fleece socks this winter, and I will wear them proud. I like my feet warm, thank you very much. Besides, it's what any good industrious young man would do.
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