IT’S been a long time coming. IT’S been lying folded in a see-through plastic storage box in the closet for at least one year where I would catch an occasional glimpse of IT. IT was previously relegated to the back of the closet and not worn for at least one year. IT was enjoyed immensely and frequently worn for at least two years during the winter months. IT has now moved to the donation box and will soon find IT'S way to Goodwill. Here IT is:
It’s my black wool check skirt with a little fringe hem. How I loved wearing it. It was usually paired with black tights and a black turtle neck sweater, my favorite way to wear it. I’d pair it with a shawl or a scarf; it was like a winter uniform for me. After years of Catholic school I felt right at home in it. Our school uniform was a woolen pleated skirt worn in the tropical, humid weather of Hawaii. Whose brilliant idea was that? But back to my skirt, it represented cold, mainland winter weather to me. I was living some sort of winter wonderland fantasy whenever I wore it. Imagine if I lived in someplace like Michigan or Chicago!
Well, lately I had begun to think perhaps the length was a little short for me, and to be completely honest, it didn’t fit like it used to if you get my drift. Also the phrase “age appropriate” began to raise its ugly head which I imagine to look like a three-headed hydra. I am sure this has happened to you…you’re walking in back of someone, she looks great from behind, long hair swinging, nice figure, dressed in a short denim skirt and body skimming tank top, shapely legs and all of a sudden she turns around and…OMG! Well, I didn’t want that to happen to me so my favorite skirt is headed for someone else to make good use of.
Goodbye, old friend, breaking up is hard to do.