Woody Cavenaugh

Saturday Sara and I had plans to meet up with Cameron and spend a relaxing day with friends. I was the first to get ready. I showered, dressed, and came into the living room. Sara saw me completely ready, got up showered, dressed. We left, we stopped to get gas, we hit the road again. About five miles from our target Sara looked at me and started cussing like a sailor. While this isn't exactly rare behavior, the reason for it was actually very new. She had put on the exact same outfit I was already wearing, a sage three button shirt with denium. She kept swearing it wasn't her fault even though I was dressed first. Her excuse was that she didn't notice. I believe her too. I can't tell you how many days she has let me get to my office only to discover that my hair wasn't done and my zipper was down.

I actually thought it was going to be OK though, we both looked excellent. Cam noticed. She didn't say anything, but Sara caught the twinkling in her eyes, grimiced as though she had tasted something very bitter and threw her credit card at me. I was to go buy a shirt RIGHT THIS MINUTE. Silver lining check! Hey, maybe I could find something with a silver lining!

Sears was having a sale, and I couldn't make up my mind so I got two shirts, both solids in the rust blush color pallot. I have t-shirts I can do magic with these colors with. Plus my wardrobe has always been weak in the red range. I am a happy camper, and Sara was the only one in Sage so she was as happy as she could be...

...until today. Remember where I said I had two new shirts? I wore one of them Saturday, and I saved the silk one specifically to go with the turquoise t-shirt. (I positively glow.) My new boss starts today and I wanted to make a positive impression. We were just out of the driveway when Sara glances over at me starts cussing like a sailor again. Again we were dressed almost alike, though she did not opt for the turquoise. You can lead a horse to the mall, but you can't make it accessorize.

She wanted this to be my fault as she was the first to actually put on cloths first, however we both knew that I plan what I am going to wear days in advance so one day's outfit can play smoothly into the next. Some people paint with fashion, I write novels. It was at this point that I realized that in the deep dark repressed recesses of her fashion subconscious, was a keen fashion sense trying despretly to get out. Its clearly communicating with me through outfits. It wants to be free! More free than linen at a kite flying contest. More free than a chifon sundress over a street vent. I hear you Sara's fashion sense!! Move towards the colors, it's me there lighting the way for you! Freedom!