The Traitor

Ever since I was a child, I have been keenly aware of clothes and fashion.  I hate to admit how much it has consumed me.  I have had entire family vacations ruined because I was dressed (what I considered to be) inappropriately. The MTC was depressing for me when the Temple Square sisters arrived and I was in my jungle dresses.  I use to not like going to the gym if my shoes didn't match my tank top. It's been bad.

As a five year old, my first experience at Disneyland was tainted by the fact that my "mean" mom made me wear shorts instead of a dress.  Now that I am an adult I realize that maybe she just didn't pack any dresses (or tutus) for me to wear on vacation.  (This was long before Princesses took over and everyone started wearing dresses and glass slippers to ride the rides and get autographs.) Or maybe she thought I would be more comfortable in shorts.  But I wasn't.  I was extremely uncomfortable.  I can still point out the spot (near the Haunted Mansion) where I saw some teenage girls in their mini skirts and I wanted to cry (and probably did) because they got to wear dresses to Disneyland and I had to wear shorts!  Of all of the wonderful memories I could have created at The Greatest Place on Earth, this is the one that I have. Shorts.

Yes, my two year old wearing heels at Disneyland.

I had to throw in some of our Disneyland pics.

In fifth grade the biggest fad was  "International News".  It seemed like every cool 6th Grader wore a baggy sweatshirt with the bold "International News" print across the front.  And I felt like the only lame 5th Grader who didn't have one of the sweatshirts. I would have given anything for an article of clothing from Varnet, International News, or Gotcha.  But since they hadn't been out long enough to circulate to the local Value Village, I was out of luck.  I was forced to pin my giant New Kids on the Block pins to a regular old jacket. (Yeah, because the no name brand jacket is the lamest thing in that sentence...)

I barely survived Elementary School fashion in time to get to Middle School.  Thankfully my parents were sick of my crying starting to understand me a little more.  When K-Swiss were popular I got the coolest new style.  When the puffy Adidas jacket were all over the halls of Nelsen Middle School, I unwrapped one for Christmas.  I didn't have all of the cool clothes.  But I had at least one article that made me feel like I could breath and cope with every day life.

This is making me sound very vain or shallow or materialistic.  I prefer "keenly aware of fashion". Painfully, keenly aware, with no way to turn it off.  I can't make myself unaware.  I have tried.

But I thought I had it under control.  As the wife of a PA student, I am not wearing 7 for all man kind jeans.  I don't carry a Kate Spade hand bag.  And I am not strutting around in Jimmy Choo shoes. But I am still breathing and enjoying my life. So apparently I have learned how to cope. (Also, most of my friends are not wearing those clothes, so I don't feel like a 5th Grader idolizing the "big kids".) I thought I was immune to that "keen sense" of fashion around me, but it's back.

This time it isn't about shoes, or purses, hairstyles, or anything that even remotely resembles high fashion.

This time it is Blue and Green.

It's everywhere.  And I think I am the only person in Seattle who is not wearing a Russell Wilson jersey today.  Team Sports Wear has never been high on my radar.  Maybe because it didn't use to be very flattering, or particularly fashionable.  Or maybe because I have never been very passionate about any specific team (or team color for that matter, I would probably be more likely to buy a jersey if it were pink).  Or maybe because I have never been the only person not wearing Blue and Green in an entire state.  (Wow, this sounds exactly like me at Disneyland! The only child whose mom wouldn't let them wear a dress!)

This time it isn't about my "mean" mom.  It isn't about the cool kids at school and their fashion. It isn't even about wanting to fit in.

It is about feeling like a traitor in my own state.

I have lived "in" Seattle all my life.  I have rain boots and a rain jacket but no umbrella.  I went to Mariners games in the Kingdome.  I go to the zoo in the pouring rain.  I cancel all of my indoor plans if there is a sun break to be outside.  I camp with blue tarps.  I still like alternative music. I feel compelled to recycle everything. And I think that fish should always be thrown. So why do I feel like I just don't belong??  I feel as unpatriotic as a Beattles shirt on The 4th of July.  I feel like I am letting down my friends, family, and my hometown by not having a giant 12th Man Flag blowing outside in my front yard and proudly wearing an oversize Marshawn Lynch sweatshirt.  I feel like a traitor.

Looks like it is time to go shopping.

I had to get the pic here, since I don't have a 12th Man Flag. :(