Saturday, September 24, 2011


I was drawn to that plaid scarf for a reason I didn't entirely understand. Yes, it had great colors that would go with a lot of my clothes for fall, and yes, it was preppy and therefore so not "me" that the irony of wearing it would be amusing. (When you grow up in Connecticut but cannot be of it, those preppy things - like the LL Bean Boat and Tote in the picture with the scarf - take on a weird sort of meaning. You understand them, but they are not for you, and yet they're more for you than they could be for someone from somewhere else. They're things you can take back, like the night, like insults hurled across a playground. You want to take back the scarf almost as a challenge to anyone who might tell you you're not allowed to wear the scarf. (The bag was a gift, by the way, from someone who understood this.)

But then I realized there was another reason I wanted that scarf. I'd had all the same thoughts, in a vague uncomprehending childish way, about practically the same scarf, 30 years ago. Land of steady habits, indeed.

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