this imploding heart

Maybe it's not all, maybe it's not alright

I gave in and gave up the 16mm camera last night, along with a well-tailored green wool dress and another 15-20 pounds of clothing that I'd meant to sell but decided at the last minute to liberate via abandonment as swiftly as possible.

I'm doing great, really. I've been incredibly willing to part with things I really love. But dammit, I WILL NOT GIVE UP MY COCKTAIL DRESSES. They haven't done anything but bring candy-colored joy to thousands of people. And there's no law against candy-colored joy.

I gently stacked my 32 beautiful, flouncy, bouncy babies in the middle of the livingroom floor atop my 4 formal winter coats, like a nest of pastel colored and rhinestone bedecked clouds. My mother had spent the day re-painting an old military footlocker, so I tore the masking tape off and dragged it into the room.

"I don't think they're going to fit in there, Sonie."

"They're gonna fit whether they like it or not, dad."

So we laid the white floor length leather coat and the black and grey faux-fir 3/4 length in the bottom and started rolling my lovely little fashion-fireworks into fabric pasteries. Black first, Pink second, Blues Greens and Purples third, Cream last. Dad rolled the dresses the same way he used to comb my hair; with fixed attention to the foriegn-but-surmountable task at hand.

(The trunk was a 2 person carry job.)

Posted by Sonya at July 21, 2004 03:13 PM