Like a purse

Day of the Unity launch. It’s just a talk but I keep referring to it inwardly as the launch…as if I got the launch of The Given Self stuck in my brain, and now every talk is some kind of launch.

Today there is wind and it brought a wave of cold that cleared the sky. For brief minutes it was the midnight blue I so love to see. Now it is mainly black and white again, but there is a swath of pink across the horizon. It appears to no longer be a steady wind. Not a thing bobbles for long stretches and then there is that gentle sway, as if the trees breathe, a lifting and a settling. I suppose that is the way it is with me.

I still find such talks a big deal. Just getting dressed is a big deal. When you don’t have to dress for the public often at all, having to do so becomes a bit of a trial. I’ll wear what I did for the book launch most likely. There’s really only one other outfit I’ve got that lets me feel that I look like “me” and that’s not too shabby. It’s an orange shirt and sweater vest kind of thing though, and I worry about the orange. Someone told me that the color orange is about creativity. That’s well and good. But sometimes it’s not easy to look at. I always thought of it as a cafeteria color – the kind that makes you want to eat a hot dog. I only bought it because I liked the style, not the color. So…we’ll see if I choose bold or bland. Orange, to me, is a bold color.

Then there’s, “What am I going to do with my hair?” Ever since I got my hair cut for a wedding last summer my braid looks like something out of an animated flick with exaggerated strands escaping wildly, especially around my neck. If I let my hair down without first doing something cosmetic (like using gel), or something artful (like having my daughter French braid it), it hangs or frizzes with an unremarkable dullness, and I look unkempt and not at all like those women who have hair that looks a mess on purpose.

And of course, I worry about why I’m worried about such things. Who cares? Men seem so able to get away with whatever. At a children’s book launch I went to recently, Michael Hall (Heart Like a Zoo), wore what looked like his everyday jeans and shoes and a sweater over a button-down shirt. Totally comfortable. Like he was ready to spend the day at home or go to the grocery store.

Last week, peace activist Marv Davidov hadn’t given (or you wouldn’t think had given) a thought to his clothes. I didn’t even notice them except for the hat. You might say he was more than casual but also a little flamboyant although I can’t say how (maybe just the hat?) His collaborator, Carol Masters, wore a dress.

I remember seeing an Andy Rooney monologue on “60 Minutes” one time where he said women would never be equal to men as long as they continued to carry purses. You can only say such things with the kind of humor Rooney has. He joked of how you can’t respond in an emergency if you say, “Wait a minute. I’ve got to get my purse.” Not that you don’t have everything you need for an emergency packed into them.

Luckily my talk is prepared like a purse ready for an emergency. I wish I didn’t need a script but I still do and I have it. I wouldn’t be thinking about clothes and hair if I didn’t. I’d be in a panic. The script is kind of like a purse. Once you know you’ve got what you need you sort of forget about it and you can get up and go (at least as soon as you’ve dressed).