TheBanyanTree: Bag Lady

[Julie Anna Teague]

One would not think that reading about someone throwing away an old purse and
buying several cute new ones would be one of those self analyzing,
introspection-inducing moments that throws one for a complete loop.  But then,
one obviously has not read of such a thing through the eyes of Maria, who embues
it with all the meaning it really has.  

Anyway, here I am, hauling around my old, dirty, blue backpack.  It replaced the
old green one with the peace-sign patch when the old green one became
unzippable.  Someimes it weighs a ton, depending upon how many books and how
much change I have accumulated on my trek through a week.  It is equally at home
at the office, at the beach, on a camping trip, or an evening out at a casual
restaurant (if it's not a casual restaurant I stuff some money in a pocket and
leave it in the car).  It is ugly and sometimes useful.  It, too, has a tendency
to become a deep pit of crap that I must wade through to find a phone number I
carelessly scribbled down, or my sunglasses, or my office key. The main thing
about the old blue backpack is that it broadcasts a message about me.  That I'm
this casual kind of person who slogs around without giving much thought to
matching or accessorizing.  An ultimately practical kind of person.  A person
who would not be caught dead with a pretty little purse. 

But this is where, I think, the whole purse/backpack thing has passed the line
into ridiculous.  I'd almost call it fear if that didn't sound so overly
dramatic.  If I carried a little matching purse, or wore matching shoes, it
might look like...like...like...I was a materialistic shallow person. A person
who did not actually have bigger things on her mind.  

Ok, there, I've said it.  As if the only thing standing between me and being a
materialistic shallow person is a handbag and a cute pair of sandals.  God
forbid I should add a scarf or matching necklace or a belt other than the tooled
leather hippy number I've had for 20 years.  I might as well wear a baby-pink
tshirt that says "I spend time and energy on matching accessories instead of
saving the world" in rhinestones.  

Is this not beyond ridiculous?  This fear that if I don't look the part of the
tree-hugging, eco-friendly vegetarian, I can't BE a tree-hugging, eco-friendly
vegetarian?  That if my shoes aren't practical every second of every day then
*I'm* not practical?  That if my clothes are not all made of breathable,
earth-friendly materials appropriate for hiking as well as the office, if
they're just "pretty", then I'm a complete sell out?  That I won't be taken
seriously? 

I was at a contradance one time--hippy central.  It was New Year's Eve and I was
there with Lee and dressed in a nice dress.  Lee was in a old tux.  A woman we
knew walked up to me and said, "Are you wearing MAKEUP?" in this rather
disgusted tone.  She made me feel like a poser.  Or, I allowed her to make me
feel like a poser.

So, there, at the bottom of it, I fear cute little purses.  I fear pretty summer
sandals.  I fear twin sets in attractive colors.  I fear eyeliner.  I fear
looking like I spent more than ten minutes putting myself together.  And I
guess, really, now that Maria (thankyouverymuch) has made me go all
introspective, I must fear that if I don't look exactly like who I want to be
taken for, that I won't BE that person.  Now that I think about it, that's just
plain stupid.  Haven't I told my kids, their whole lives, that it's not what you
wear, it's who you are?  That people should be judged by their actions and not
their appearance?  The things we put ourselves through.  

Julie