Day 17: It came up in conversation a couple of days ago that I have very few "real" clothes in my closet other than my uniforms, and while that isn't accurate in the purest sense of the phrase, there are only half a dozen items which could do double-duty as everyday wear in, say, an office environment. As a matter of fact, I consider two of these images more frightening than the rest because they call to mind the expression, "There but for the grace of God go I." They are the anti-Crow, the antithesis of who I really am.
There are elements of the spy, the villain, the schoolmistress, the sorceress, the puckish woodland spirit, the aborigine and the entertainer in my makeup, and a healthy dose of pirate as my readers know, but there is no trace of the household drudge nor (horrors!) of the fashion-conscious businesswoman. In those two photos, I am in costume more than any of the others, playing a role so foreign to me that I am glad I did not have to carry a speaking part. When I think that I might have become either of those sad and lifeless beings had my educators been able to stuff me in their molds, I cringe. Scary stuff, that! Give me ghoulies and ghosties any day, but spare me the heels and handbag. That's where the real zombies are.
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