Black pants. Black tank tops. Black jeans. Black skirt. Black bra. Black panties. As I pack my suit case, I see a lot of black.
Living in New York City, I have accumulated a black wardrobe. It all matches. It never gathers stains. It wears in better than a pair of Levi’s or Converse. But, I’ve been criticized for the lack of color in my wardrobe from my family, from friends, from ex-boyfriends (if you could call them boyfriends), and even from Stacy London, that Lady from “What Not to Wear.”
I think it may reflect an attitude, but not my attitude. Black can ward people off, and I don’t want to scare people away anymore.
People. With every shirt I smooth out and fold into my suitcase, I think about everything and everyone I’m bringing with me. When any person packs for a trip, they try to be minimal, and if they don’t, well, that would be unwise. It’s the same with keeping in touch with the people in their lives
People I’m Bringing with me:
- 7 friends
- 1 person I can’t seem to let go of (nor do I want to)
- 2 parents
- my grandma
I’m probably forgetting a few friends and boys, but like clothes and shoes, if I can’t remember to bring them, then I probably won’t need them anyway.