|This is similar to the look I've been sporting lately except that she's a bit more voluptuous than I.|
Because I spent a large portion of my life from before middle school through undergrad as a semi-professional musician, I have a substantial black wardrobe. Background musicians are expected to wear black. Musicians only wear other colors when they're soloing, and sometimes even then, they wear black. I've outgrown (THANK GOD!!!) most of my middle school wardrobe, but because I'm not into form-fitting clothing for the most part, I can still wear most of the stuff i wore in high school even though I weighed 87 pounds at the very heaviset during those days.
My expansive basic black wardrobe comes in handy usually when I'm called upon to play for a wedding, funeral, recital, or some other such event. I've recently found another use for the black clothing, however. There is this pesky matter, as you most likely know, called laundry. Sometimes I study so much that I find that I haven't done any laudry for a week or two or three. That's when the extensive black wardrobe is a rather convenient thing to own. It's clean and doesn't smell, and it's hanging up in my closet, wrinkly-free and ready to wear. I must admit that it's all I've worn this week.
What I will tell you next probably falls under the umbrella of "Too Much Information," but since I don't know most of you personally, I'll share the information anyway. I was once in the hospital when my parents were out of the country. I had no one to do laundry for me who would do it in the matter to which I have become accustomed. My Aunt Jillian might have done it, but she was very sick -- much too sick to be doing my laundry. I could have asked my brother to do my laundry, but my brother's idea of doing laundry is to throw everything he can find into the washing machine regardless of fabric type or weight, color, or any other consideration, then pour a bit of bleach into the machine just because it's there, then turn the machine settings to "hot water" and "regular cycle," and then to throw it all into the dryer on the highest heat setting possible, and then run it through two complete drying cycles. My bras, which wouldn't have been all that large in the first place, would have fit Barbie's cousin Skipper by the time they came out of my brother's version of the wash/dry cycle. My white underwear would have been either pink or dingy gray when it came out, depending upon whether it was washed with new jeans or a crimson T-shirt. My nice lingerie would have fuzzy things stucky all over them from the terry-cloth towels my brother had washed with them. For this reason, I would sooner wear dirty clothing than trust my wardrobe to my brother's laundry methods.
The time I was in the hospital for almost three weeks when my parents were abroad, I decided I would never again be in the situation of having to rely on my brother to do my laundry. A person really doesn't need much in the way of clothing while an inpatient in a hospital. Patients are typically expect to wear those lovely hospital gowns. Bras really aren't even all that essential, particularly for someone with a build like mine. Underwear, however, is something most of us would consider non-negotiable. As soon as I was released from the hospital. I went online to Amazon.com and ordered twenty-eight bra and undies sets.This was in addition to the ten or so sets that I already owned. I keep these undergarments in drawer number three of whatever dresser I'm using in whatever home in which I'm living. Then if I'm inexplicably hospitalized when my parents are far away and there is no one more qualified than my brother to do my laundry, all i have to do is to give my house key to anyone or even ask my brother, and tell the person to go to my room, take at least 20 pairs of undies from my drawer, and bring them to me at the hospital. The catastrophe is therefore averted.
How this relates to my present system is that even though I haven't done laundry for two weeks or so, I have my black wardrobe, which is clean, and my emergency stash of undies, which are also clean.
The cool guy in class, after once again acknowledging me as Cutthroat Bitch and slapping hands with me yesterday, quietly asked me if I was going Goth. I explained my laundry situation and my excess supply of basic black clothing. He just laughed. Then our professor for the day entered the room. He's young, more than a bit nerdy, and somewhat socially awkward as well. He looked at me and asked me out loud in front of everyone, "Alexis, have you turned Goth?"
I smiled proudly and replied, "You noticed!" The entire cohort broke into laughter, though I didn't know if they were laughing at the professor or at me. The man had no clue I was playing games with his mind. After class, he asked me to wait for a moment to talk to him. He inquired as to my state of mental health and what it was that possessed me to dress in black. He even asked if I had felt suicidal recently. I never bothered to clue him in about my basic black musician wardrobe and my laundry situation. Sometimes I'm not a very nice person.
This weekend I'll do my laundry. Then I'll start wearing my normal clothing again. The professor will be very proud of himself, as he will take personal credit for having lured me back toward the light. What people do not know does not hurt thiem and sometimes even helps them to fell better about themselves.
Matthew, by the way, is making fun of me for failing to do my laundry. He has been talking about the extreme labor involved in doing laundry in today's world. "You have to pump the water, then heat it, and make your own soap from lye," he commented. "Then you have to either scrub the clothes on one of those boards or put it through one of those roller things (I think he meant a ringer) to squeeze all the water out. I can see why it's so much trouble for you to do your laundry." He can laugh all he wants, but my basic black wardrobe still looks better than his formerly white shirts that are now pinkish-purplish-grayish-indigo thanks to the care with which he sorts colors while doing his laundry.
|This is similar to the outfit I'll wear tomorrow, although it won't look quite like that on me.|
|The nerdy professor and Alexis before my transformation to Gothic.|