No, this is not an election-related post. Loss is part of life, and in addition to the life-altering ones, we all have our share of smaller, everyday losses to mourn. When it comes to beauty and fashion, these losses may seem trivial, but do not be fooled. I am willing to bet that every woman out there can remember her most painful losses over the years. Here are mine.
The I-Am-A-Princess ring
I don’t remember what it looked like or where I got it. I only remember that, when I put this ring on, I felt beautiful. I was transformed from a gawky, poorly dressed 10-year-old into a delicate, feminine creature. I think I owned this ring for all of two days, until I foolishly chose to wear it on a family hike in the woods. While crossing a shallow brook, I pointed to something in the water and that ring – I swear to God – popped right off and was swept away in the current. I was inconsolable.
The cool motorcycle jacket
It would probably look horrible by today’s standards – very eighties, with a tiny, tapered waist and broad, almost triangular shoulders. But it had this cool gunmetal grey color, and the tough design made me feel like a badass. I know it was secondhand, though I can’t recall if somebody handed it down to me or if I bought it at a thrift store. In any event, I left it behind in Terminal C of Boston Logan airport. That’s the last time I agree to pick up a friend in the middle of the night!
My favorite race T-shirt
No, it wasn’t fashionable. Race T-shirts are fugly, by design, as well as uncomfortable, and I have way too many of them. But this was the first 10K I ever ran! And while I know this could be my imagination, I believe it was softer, less stiff, and better fitting than any other cotton T-shirt I’ve ever worn. It disappeared right after a weekend trip in the Berkshires with my extended family. An investigation is still ongoing, and my family members have not been cleared.
The best necklace I ever made
I used to make bead necklaces, most of which weren’t fit to be worn. The notable exception was a long string of beads in a perfect combination of brown, gold and black. It went with everything, and it was shiny enough to look special but natural enough to look like me. It was also long enough to perk up the most blah, plain, high-necked tops I owned. I had to disassemble several other necklaces to compile the beads for this one, and I re-strung it three times until it was just the way I wanted it. I wore it lovingly until one fateful day when the seatbelt grabbed it as I was getting out of the car. The next thing I knew, all the beads were tumbling onto Main Street, rolling under the car toward the filthy curb in front of a sleazy liquor store. I did not attempt retrieval.
More earrings than I can count
The only ones I vividly remember were the super cool, faux jade (plastic) ones that my Mom bought for me during, naturally, the eighties. They were shaped like a Chinese symbol, meaning unknown, and I wore them every day for about three months. The first time I lost one, I was at a playground in the middle of the night, hanging with friends, swinging on the swings. Everybody helped me search, but to no avail. Surprisingly enough, I found the earring later than night – comically wedged inside my bra. My celebration was premature, though, because it disappeared for good the following week.
The collagen in my face
I don’t really know what collagen is, and I’ll bet you don’t, either. But I’m told that we’re all losing it, and fast, and I suspect this has something to do with the unsightly frown lines that have taken up permanent residence between my eyebrows. Mr. Frump – God love him – tells me they give my face character. Me, I’d be willing to trade a little of that character for some damn collagen.