Birthdays. In my opinion they simply blow. There I said it. They are such friendly reminders of how you aren’t quite where you want to be in life, how your body is widening at a rather rapid pace, and how gravity does indeed take its toll. I know, I know, I’m one of THOSE people. Yet, this birthday I did realize, though I am not quite where I want to be in life, I am slowly crawling to where I want to be as a person.
However, there still seems to be some of my old die-hard habits that need to be broken. Anyone whose read on here before knows I pitifully fall into the category of those who live in the future. That’s right, I’m not one who dwells on the past, but rather, I have the odd ritual of doing a lot of “I’ll do that when the time is right,” “when I have more money,” “when I’m in a better place.”
What is this mythical better place I’m always striving towards? I wonder in my mind.
I realize I’m even a nut about my clothes. What you ask? Let me tell you… I have a bit of OCD, and some of my most prized clothing I keep in wardrobe bags?!?! Like I’m some intern of Rachel Zoe, I tote around my coveted pieces as if I’m about to dress Cameron Diaz. I think I feel the same way about certain items of designer wear the way some women feel about their diamonds or Birkin bags.
The other day I caught myself checking on my clothing. What in of the fuck? Ahhh yes, I unzip the garment bag and literally inspect some of my favorites like a complete and utter psychopath. What am I looking for exactly? I’m not sure. Moth holes? Sometimes I try it on to make sure it still fits. I know I can barely believe I am admitting this. So the other day, I was doing this odd routine with one of my favorites. Now, there is nothing ridiculous about this item, it’s not embroidered with fourteen karat gold or such. Frankly, if you saw it, you’d think it’s an ordinary black blazer. But, to me it’s a pièce de résistance. I picked up said blazer in Italy at the outlets years ago. It’s Balenciaga from the time of Nicolas Ghesquière. It has intricately woven sleeves that I like to run my fingers over, like the Queen’s jewels. Again, don’t ask. As I was going through this motion, it dawned on me that I have owned this rather seemingly ordinary piece of clothing for over four years, and never worn it. It has sat in my closet in its garment bag, like so much of the rest of my life, “waiting for the perfect time.” It is a black blazer people. I’m not sure why this stunned me so much, but to say this was an analogy for my life and my psychological patterns would be a gross understatement. I tucked this away in the back of my head and then, a few days later, had a valiant act of courage, and brought this fashion artifact with me from the safe confines of my parent’s house into the wild streets of New York City.
One night, not a particularly fancy night, but one night, I decided to wear it. After four years, I took it out from its safe haven of the past four years and put it on. I wore it out the doors into the busy-frenetic-dirty streets of Manhattan. What exactly happened? Did I have the BEST night of my life? Did I frolic with Leonardo di Caprio and meet my future ex-husband? Nope. Nothing, nada. Honestly, I don’t even think I got one compliment on the stupid thing. But, herein lies the rub…though this wasn’t a Cinderella moment and this certainly wasn’t a glass slipper slipped on to a night of magic, I broke the psychological chain I lived with for so long. I did this, not in the future, not in the past, but now. With so much fucked up shit going on in the world, on this birthday, I promised myself to live as best as I can in this very second. I’ll nuzzle my pup more than sanely appropriate. I’ll tell the people I love that I love them every free second of everyday, until they are borderline uncomfortable. I’ll wear those stupid clothes and not save them for a day that might never come. It may not make me Cinderella, but at least I won’t be living for a fairy tale that might never happen. Instead, I’ll be living a beautiful ordinary life, everyday, as best I can. That’s my birthday wisdom and wish for you too. Take out whatever you can out of your psychological closet, or do whatever you’ve put off for the perfect moment; today. Be your own fairy godmother and own Cindafuckingrella. There aren’t glass slippers to be had, but there’s magic in the moments if you to look for them. Bon anniversaire.