Monday, February 18, 2008


Exhibit A

Exhibit B

I've been wondering why there are no standard issue uniforms for writers. Why must we be indistinguishable from normies? My husband, for example, has a different uniform or "outfit" for every hobby he's adopted (or adapted or whatever.) When he bought his Tiger Triumph when I was 8 months pregnant, the fluorescent full body suit was not far behind. See exhibit A. Now he's into windsurfing, and you guessed it, another full body suit. See exhibit B. These lifeless 4 limbed phantoms are always flying around suspended by hooks or hangers in the bathroom or just inside the closet door scaring the bejesus out of me. I, on the other hand could spend my entire working day in sweat pants or tights or a hula skirt or whatever the hell I want. I'm a "writer." Yes, I go into the "office" 2 and 1/2 days a week, but that's pretty loosy-goosy too. I just have to look not-crazy. Sure, it doesn't hurt to blow dry my hair and/or put on makeup every once in a while, but whether I do or not does not a writer make (or destroy.) Don't get me wrong, I'm not suggesting that I'd ever wear a uniform even if there was one, nor do I long for my name cross-stitched into the left breast pocket of my shirt. I just want to know if you're anything like me when I see you walking down the street.

No comments:

Post a Comment