Window Dressing
Last night I dealt with writer’s block by shopping online—an undertaking of
questionable equivalency. Nevertheless.
I got some fairly pricey
men’s skin-care products: Body wash because I considered going for a
swim last night at the '60s-era public-school pool
with a '60s-era unequipped shower but I was out of portable soap, so guess what—I didn’t go swimming! (Though I
did run.) And facial scrub because I’m starting to pamper
myself more in that area. (I turn 53 a month from today.) I
justified the expense of these non-sale items by finding a $30 summer
fedora for only $9 to add to my hat collection (Lord & Taylor has great discounts on top of
discounts on top of sales) and a
crinkly, long linen-blend scarf ($44 reduced to something like $13). This last one is new
for me, as I’m only a winter-scarf man like, I think, most men. But at this price, what did I have to lose? Given that the “beauty products”
I got qualified for free shipping, I made out pretty well, even though it’s all filler for the real stuff swirling around in my head
awaiting expression. (Yeah, I know, that's happening now.)
About the scarf: The
slight do-I-dare aspect dates back more than 30 years to my junior year abroad, where German men wrapped long flowered gauze scarves around their necks year-round, even in summer, no jacket required. It was kind of
hippyish, vaguely sexy, and cool. Some American guys I knew adopted the look, too.
Oh, the hesitation that has followed me through the years—I've written about it a lot. I even mentioned those German scarves in an essay I published a decade ago about my pierced ears. And about a year ago, I added a tattoo essay to my oeuvre. Life is short, I remember telling myself as I headed to one establishment. Progress.
The scarf I bought is nothing radical—not even much like the German ones, which had a distinct femininity about them. On a very masculine guy (I'm thinking of a particularly hirsute friend back then), it was a mysterious, androgynous counterpoint. Mine will either look good on me or it won't.
I just noticed that twice in a row now I've written about body decoration and clothing. Surfaces. It's a start.
I got some fairly pricey
men’s skin-care products: Body wash because I considered going for a
swim last night at the '60s-era public-school pool
with a '60s-era unequipped shower but I was out of portable soap, so guess what—I didn’t go swimming! (Though I
did run.) And facial scrub because I’m starting to pamper
myself more in that area. (I turn 53 a month from today.) I
justified the expense of these non-sale items by finding a $30 summer
fedora for only $9 to add to my hat collection (Lord & Taylor has great discounts on top of
discounts on top of sales) and a
crinkly, long linen-blend scarf ($44 reduced to something like $13). This last one is new
for me, as I’m only a winter-scarf man like, I think, most men. But at this price, what did I have to lose? Given that the “beauty products”
I got qualified for free shipping, I made out pretty well, even though it’s all filler for the real stuff swirling around in my head
awaiting expression. (Yeah, I know, that's happening now.)Oh, the hesitation that has followed me through the years—I've written about it a lot. I even mentioned those German scarves in an essay I published a decade ago about my pierced ears. And about a year ago, I added a tattoo essay to my oeuvre. Life is short, I remember telling myself as I headed to one establishment. Progress.
The scarf I bought is nothing radical—not even much like the German ones, which had a distinct femininity about them. On a very masculine guy (I'm thinking of a particularly hirsute friend back then), it was a mysterious, androgynous counterpoint. Mine will either look good on me or it won't.
I just noticed that twice in a row now I've written about body decoration and clothing. Surfaces. It's a start.
Labels: body decoration, clothes, junior year abroad, writing
posted by Billy at 9:56 PM
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