Groovy Dude

Jock. Hippie. Prep. Valley Girl. Jersey. Biddie. Emo. Goth. We've been learning about stereotypes forever- how you can't judge people by the group they seem to fit into or how they're portrayed in media (I get a lot of that in my classes). We are always told not to stereotype people. But we still do.


When I go shopping for new clothes, I don't think "okay I'm a outdoorsy girl so I better not get any polos." That's ridiculous. And yet lately, I've gotten a couple comments about what I wear that made me laugh. Nothing mean- in fact they were from two of my closest friends. 

The first comment was from a camp counselor friend. I guess she usually sees me when I'm outside or wearing jeans with busted knees (holes I made not the manufacturer thank you very much), TOMs, and my Pantagonia jacket (which my -excuse the stereotype- Tennessee cowboy-boot-wearing friend called "hippie"). So when I threw on an argyle sweater for a movie with my parents the other day, it surprised my friend. I just like the colors. Plus it was comfortable. Plus I went to the preppiest high school ever so I guess it's in my roots. Either way, I hadn't really thought about the sweater not fitting "my image" or anything like that. It was just part of my wardrobe.

The next comment was just the opposite. In an attempt to celebrate the coming of spring (as if my love note didn't do it enough), I painted my nails a bright lime green. Yesterday morning, I put on some dark skinny jeans and a black shirt and to add some color I wore my painted TOMs (which happened to match my nails) and a rainbow-ish shoestring for a headband. I usually wear the shoestring-headband at camp because it's bright and silly. Plus, I got the idea from our awesome assistant camp director who wears a ruler tape for a headband. So I guess I may have worn the headband in my excitement for camp. Either way when I saw friend #2 on campus, she said I looked like a hippie with my nails and headband and all. Our gay friend corrected her that I was "boho chic." Or was it "hobo chic"? Shows how much I know.

It's funny how my more-conservative-clothes-wearing friends often call me a hippie. I've gotten it before because I like tie dye, wearing my hiking boots around and I am an environmentalist I guess. I'm sure the curly hair ads to the image somewhat. And I don't really mind the label- when it refers to my clothing, I guess it's often correct. However, if you wikipedia "hippie" there are some things the term is associated with that I don't do or accept.

Ironically, "many thoughtful hippies distanced themselves from the very idea that the way a person dresses could be a reliable signal of who he was." So I guess, maybe I am a hippie in that sense. I wear what I wear not because of who I am but because of what colors I like, what fits me well, what is comfortable, what is useful and even sometimes what is in fashion. Do those things define who I am? No. But I guess they do show a part of my character or who I am on a particlar day. But I don't consider my look as part of a label or stereotype. It's just Sarah.

To Spring, a love note.

Dearest Spring, 

My drive home today was perfect. Albert (my bonsai tree) and I cruised 64 with the windows down and the music blasting. It was that kind of weather. And the moment I came over a small hill and saw the mountains ahead of me was kind of glorious. I felt like there should be triumphant french horn soaring through an orchestra. They say you don't realize you miss something until it's taken away, but sometimes you don't realize you missed something until you have it back. Though I hadn't really thought about it during spring break, I realized that I really missed those dang mountains. I mean, who wouldn't? They're gorgeous.

In the grand scheme of things, a week isn't a whole lot. But it's enough for quite a lot to happen. On my way home, I wore a jacket with the windows up and a wintery cloudy sky watched me drive through barren trees. Today, I wore a tshirt, sunglasses and flip flops and rolled down the window for Paul's sake (why should Pete get all the attention?). The world wasn't exactly blossoming with color, but there was a little more green on fields, a little more life in each tree. Maybe the blue sky was creating a facade, helping them look their spring-y-est, but I bought it. 

Groundhog's day is a tradition I will never really understand. I think it's silly and unhelpful. It can present false hope or false gloom and it really is just plain useless. This year, according to Wikipedia records, there were were 15 predictions for an early summer and 10 for six more weeks of winter from groundhogs around the country. If that kind of contradiction from various groundhogs don't turn you off the holiday, you are an idiot. Im sorry, I mean you are ignorant. No, no I'm going to be PC and say I agree to disagree with you (ya dummy!) Anyways, whether you believe in that goffer crap or not, those six weeks are almost up and March 21, the official first day of spring is almost here. 

Welcome sun, welcome green, welcome procrastination. I am ready. I'm getting out my sandals, shoving my sweaters to the back of my closet and crossing my fingers for no more cold days. Oh springtime, my love, do come quickly. I have missed you.

Your ardent admirer, 

Sarah