When it was first explained to me that I wasn't going to be growing a big old beard when I grew up I was incredibly put out.
Beards looked cool.
If you got sick of them you could slim them down into all sorts of moustache configurations.
If you stuck with it you could end up with face fuzz long enough to braid.
None of the female landscaping I found out about later seemed anywhere near as versatile or interesting.
And God help you if you suggested to young Ricochet that shoes, clothes or accessories were on the same level as something you could grow yourself for free and use to disguise yourself when you were on the run from the law.
I've never had peener envy or any of the other associated psychological complexes but I did feel ripped off about beards.
Also ties.
I remember being in primary school and having a friend explain to me with all the confidence of an eight year old that girls get to wear ties as part of their uniform until they finish high school but then after that they don't get to wear ties any more.
That also seemed stupid and unfair.
Ties can look business-like and impressive or you can loosen them at the end of the day to indicate 'THAT'S IT! I'M DONE!'
You can knot them around your forehead if you're going into battle, use them to choke people in exciting urban combat situations, use them to tie things when a length of cord-like material is needed for survival, wear them to work I guess...
And I took my friend's word for it.
You didn't see many ladies on TV wearing ties in office dramas or cop shows; it was all open necked shirts and discreet blouses or tough, no-nonsense, ballsy long-sleeve numbers.
After a while I forgot about it.
Then when I was in university and going through my pretentious stage*, I went into a particularly mismatched kitschy looking cafe and the girl who brought me my giant latte was wearing a tie.
She wasn't just wearing the tie, she was rocking the tie.
Short sleeve button up shirt with ragged sleeves, knee length black skirt, distressed stockings, lovely scuffed berry coloured boots and a tie.
A tie!
Just hangin' there, as natural as can be.
I had a jealous.
And then I had a revelation!
If she could do it, then I could damn well do it!
When I went home I dug out my old school tie, stared at it blankly for a bit and tried to remember how it worked**, flopped it over my neck and then after a few false starts made it look not like a turkey barfing up its own head.
And I never looked back.
I may never grow a truly awesome beard but I will enjoy every minute I'm flaunting a tie.
Because some things are just fun for no particular reason and those are the ones you should make a point to enjoy for themselves in all their unexplained glory.
Even if there was an explanation how could it be better than plain old 'I just feel damn fancy'?
*Well, entering my pretentious stage, I've never really left.
**My memory is very efficient at clearing out anything it deems no longer necessary. If I changed my phone number today I can almost guarantee you that it would be gone in less than a month from the meat storage slot it currently occupies in my long-term memory.
2 comments:
This only confirms my long-held suspicion that you are actually a Dwarf (in the Tolkien sense). ;)
Now I want to see Dwarf formal garb. Why do I have the feeling that it should involve kilts?
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