I’m not a trendy person. At all. I prefer a classic approach to fashion and just about everything else. But on the rare occasion that I get caught up in a trend, I really get caught up in it.
The trend of the day, my dear sisters, is wearing white, wearing a pantsuit, or the best possible option, a white pantsuit. This trend is in remembrance of the suffragettes who wore white for purity, and a nod to Hillary Clinton’s white pantsuit which she wore the night of her acceptance of the Democratic Party Nomination. And I am so all over this trend.
At least I thought I was.
I don’t own much white. I’m a mom, and the job description includes wiping occasional boogers on the inside of my shirt; and chocolate and spaghetti sauce hugs, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. White hasn’t been a major factor in my wardrobe since I begat my first child, over 17 years ago. I had decided on my white capris paired with a white blouse. Welp, unsurprisingly, those white capris had coffee stains on them. (Yes, I realize that I, not my children, are responsible for the stains on that white clothing item.) So I had to dig deeper. I found a blazer and trousers that could serve as a “pantsuit” (loosely speaking) with my white blouse, which came out of the far back reaches of my closet unscathed.
I spent the morning traipsing about my house singing, “Sister Suffragette,” from the Disney movie, Mary Poppins, at the top of my lungs. (I was evidently so giddy with my singing and traipsing that I forgot to wear my favorite earrings for my historical photo op.)
I’m excited about this election.
I know, I know, everyone is sick and tired of this nonsense election, but in taking a larger perspective, this date could be in the history books that our great, great grandkids read, and doggone it, I’m going to celebrate that.
Today I am setting aside the 281 days that have happened since the Iowa Caucuses, and all the butthurt that has gone along with them, and sitting back to see if history will be made. I’ve done my homework, and I’m satisfied with my choice. I’m setting aside misgivings, and concerns, and giddily preparing to soak in the moment, I’m even making lemon bars to celebrate (go big or go home man!).
Tomorrow there will be time to second guess, rethink and decide how to move forward, but today I am joining my millions of sisters and brothers across the country who will be waiting with bated breath to watch that glass ceiling shatter!
(and by the way, my white blouse now has Subway Chipotle Southwest sauce stains on it, it may or may not have been all my fault).