June 28, 2006
BQ Gilda Radner 6/28/1946
I'd much rather be a woman than a man. Women can cry, they can wear cute clothes, and they're the first to be rescued off sinking ships.
Someone told me once that when I was little I used to say, "I may be pretty, but I'm not groovy." That sentence has revisited my mind often since. But in fact, I've come to think that I have believed something closer to the opposite of that. I think I have been afraid of my "grooviness", afraid that it would attract undue attention. So I chose to go on pretending that I was just like everyone else. That's much safer, under the radar.
I remember once dressing in all my favorite clothes at once. I wore red tights under my cherished yellow terry cloth shorts and on top I wore a red knit short-sleeved sweater that had a design all through created by tiny pin holes. It was a Saturday morning, I was feeling groovy. I was going out to claim the day. I was not thinking of anyone else, I was just being my true self, reaching into my closet with happiness and contentment. I walked down the street to my friend Joanie's and knocked on the door. Her tall, coiffed, uptight mother answered, took a quick glance down at me standing on her walk and immediately spouted, "Does your mother know you're wearing that?!" The Mrs. Rittenhouses of the world, uncomfortable with their own selves perhaps, squelching everyone elses'.
Nowadays, I buy clothes that "speak to me" whenever I get the chance. I have lots of "appropriate" clothes, but also lots of groovy clothes too. I think I look best in them...they bring out the sparkle...they bring out *life*.