The Writer's Wardrobe *Womyn-Centered Post*

Claiming to be a writer myself, and spending a large amount of time around writers, I have seen trends and similarities within the wardrobes of writers. I really only notice the femelle writers, so that's all I'm going to talk about.

However, I think it is interesting and important to discuss the merits of having certain items in your wardrobe to ensure success as a writer.

**Black Pants. In multiples. Everyone wears black. It is slimming, comfortable, and says "I don't need no freakin' colored pants" when you wear it. It looks good on anyone, also.

The thing about pants is this, though: If you are short, try to avoid "short pants" UNLESS they are "short pants" made for short people. Anything that shows less than four inches of leg at the bottom just looks silly, especially if they are flared. Short womyn, stick to slightly flared pants. Peg-legs make us look shorter. I promise. (I am short, so I can say this from experience.)

**A nice, crisp white blouse. Black and white contrast so nicely, and this shirt says "I'm the Boss" on your first day of teaching. Just don't spill coffee on it before class.

Blouses also have a caveat. If you are a busty womyn, make certain that all those little gaps in-between the buttons are somehow closed or are non-existent. Unless you want all those people you walk and talk with to see the pretty lace bow on your brand-new ivory balconette bra, unless you're not wearing one, in which case all they see is skin. That can be taunting, or daunting. Velcro or snaps can make those gaps go away, as can buying a shirt that is a little larger and having it tailored. With your six-figure profit from your writing, of course.

**Skirts. I know, I know. It's hard, but sometimes we should all wear a skirt. Long or short, that doesn't matter. I prefer shorter - some just-below the knee, others slightly (less than 1") above the knee. There are three basic styles of skirts, though: the A-line, which is fitted across the hips and thighs and widens out (not the best for those trying to hid their middles/hips); the pencil, which is fitted across the hips and thighs and is fairly narrow the entire way down (this is also not the best for those trying to hide something, and is NOT good for running in); and the flounce, which is a very flattering look for anyone. It is loose, movable, and not at all restricting. Some people think negatively of it, the "flowing hippy skirts" and all that, but it very tasteful when done well.

Long skirts are nice, but try to avoid the long pencil skirt, as it can inhibit movement and you don't want to fall while walking across the stage during an award ceremony for your new book!

**A sleeveless turtleneck. Unless you ABSOLUTELY HATE your arms, let this classic keep you warm in the Autumn while still letting you wear a cardigan, if you get too cold, without being bulky. Something around your neck keeps you much warmer than you think ...

**A cowl-neck top. This one happens to be sleeveless, but there are some GREAT cowl-neck sweaters out there. The cowl is cozy, keeps you warm and is a flattering drape for any bust size. And, I think it looks awesome.

**A cashmere sweater. Every grrl needs one. It's like melted butter under your fingers, without all the greasy-stickiness. Wonderful. I chose a cardigan because of it's versatility ... You can wear it all year round.

**A deep-neck cardigan. This is great for womyn with small chests, and for those of us who have it and don't mind if it is accentuated a little. These are nice for wearing over square-neck camisoles or tees.

**Solid tees and knit shirts. Pair black or tan or brown pants with a solid top, and you CAN'T go wrong. You can even wear a brown top with a black skirt ... It'll look fabulous.

**A good suit. If you find one you like and fits well, get it in more than one color. That is okay. An ill-fitting suit can break that first impression before you even open your mouth. It is sad, but true.

**A pair offlats. These are the shoes to wear with many skirts. If you're short, that's okay now. We can wear flats, too. Get them in different colors and styles, but stay away from the pointy-toe flats. Pointed shoes need at least a 1.5" heel to look successful.

**T-Strap heels. They remind me of the flamenco dancers of the 1940s and 1950s, from whom the style originted. Gotta love 'em. And they're secy, without being risque.

**A nice coat. One that covers your hips for the winter, but is still light enough to wear in Autumn and Spring. We want to get the most wear out of our wardrobe, right?

**A pretty scarf. Paisley, floral, print, it doesn't matter. Pretty is what counts. Silk is best, rayon or nylon or polyester is okay. It should have a sheen to it, a sparkle.

**A purse/satchel big enough to hold all your papers (if you're teaching) or the drafts of your manuscripts and a journal and a book to read. If you're a multitasker, than it should be enough to also hold things like a small knitting project or audio equipment (iPod or other player), but small enough to prevent losing things. Compartments are nice, as are lots of multi-use pockets.

**A good dress. This one isn't my favorite, but it is the right style: fitted in some spots, flared in others, not too clingy, and flattering to most body types.

**A bra with clear straps>. I know, this sounds silly, but trust me. When you want to wear that bataeu-neck top and your strapless bra is the wrong color, thank me. Sure, you can still see the straps sometimes, but overall, they're not glaring at you. And, they do make clear straps for busty womyn. Check Lane Bryant for a GREAT selection of nice bras for bigger womyn. I wish I had found them WAY before my surgery ... I would have been much happier.

**A shameless convertable bra. These are turly a gift for those womyn who wear dresses with "interesting" strap configurations. I wear mine more often than I thought I would, simply because it comes in so handy when I want to wear strapless or funny-strapped outfits. Get one that fits and is comfortable; it is a worthwhile investment.

**Seamless underthings. Please. Panty-lines are NOT your friend.

But, the most important item to have in your wardrobe is this:
The snese to know that I'm just one person, and NOT an expert, and I want you to wear whatever it is that makes you feel good about yourself and that you are comfortable in. I can't tell you what to wear.

I think you all look great, anyway.

Here's to the womyn writers of the world!

New Definition

Today I learned a new definition for the word blase.

According to the New American Webster Handy College Dictionary, the first definition of blase is:

"satiated with pleasure."

Now, when the second definition, and perhaps more commonly used definition, is "bored," that presents an interesting contrast.

Food for thought.

Guardian

Come
stay with me tonight—
my bed is small
but I will share.

Bring your most comfortable pajamas
we’ll have a sleepover—
teenage girls again,
giggling and painting each other’s nails.
No talk of boys though;
they are the reason I need you here.

I warn you — I kick
unless your skin is touching mine,
I think you are him.

Can we just pretend?

Lie next to me — hold me as a lover
I know you are kind.

Keep me safe when he enters my dream.

Things That Would Come in Handy

Right now, the three pieces of *small* larger office equipment that would make like much better are:

1. My own printer/scanner/copier, maybe with a fax, too. A desktop one, like one of those square ones or rectangle ones that sit really nicely on a bookshelf and make me very happy. I would really like to have my own printer for those time when I'm lazy and don't want to walk to the Library, and for when I want to print things like corrected business cards and writing on pretty paper.

2. A paper-shredder. Just one of those little 8-sheet ones with a catch-basket underneath. I think they're pretty inexpensive. I get tired of having to tear up all my multiple extra copies of drafts of my writing. A shredder would make life much simpler, and would go faster.

3. A filing cabinet. I can't wait to buy a filing cabinet. Just one of those little, two-drawer jobbies that hold so much. Because then, I can have all of my stuff - like, my business stuff (insurance, taxes, documents, etc) - in one drawer, and my writing drafts in the other drawer, and I know where EVERYTHING is. Because, for an almost OCD, organized person like myself, not having enough space to properly store things drives me CRAZY. Like, bugshit on the window crazy.

***

The only other thing that would make me really happy is a piano to play. I am feeling a dearth of music in my life, music that I create. The piano in the lobby of my dorm is so out-of-tune that it is painful to hear. Sometimes, I do it just because I need to play. I'm envious of my sistir and hir keyboard. At this point, even a keyboard would be enough, with a pair of nice headphones, so that I could play all I want. I miss those ivories under my fingers.

And, allowing one's self multiple creative outlets tends to only enhance each of the creative pursuits. This means music=better writing, and I need all the help I can get.

Unwelcome Memories

I want to make love to the moon tonight.

Incandescent white light spills over my figure, relaxed on a bed of slatted wood, suspended in water. Hir reflection leads to me. Through my lenses shi wears a halo; hir edges blur through lust and longing.

A love song beats against the sand, daring, pushing, willing me to take the next step. Only a brave person would kiss the moon. Wisps of cloud-hair float against my skin. I remember the feel of my lover's hands, now given to another's senses. A tremble of oxygen escapes my lips.

Shi is almost whole; the full lips of the horizons part to allow hir passage through.

I remember, as a child, watching the center of a bridge parting to grant passage to a tankership. The pieces moaned and growled when separated, and lay silent together. I watched in wonder, my own small frame understanding each sound as if I was their maker.

A temperate East wind tickles my neck, my back, my breasts, my toes. Sweet nothings whisper on that intimate breeze; the moon sending wishes, and warnings. Do I take that next step: do I say hello to hir? Suddenly I realize that the Moon knows all my secrets -- ill-fated attraction, overactive lust, the need to be desired to know self-worth.


I am ashamed, much the same as when a lover sees the scars from a poorly-healed surgery. I am afraid of the light, afraid that the me I hide in skin-tight clothes behind crimson lips will be spotted, will escape and demand the love and respect that I do not know understand how to give.

Dangerous lovers are easy; they ask for little emotional attachment, and don't care how you treat yourself. A vessel, a bundle of flesh and sex and something to hold onto, is all they want. I miss that. Leaving danger behind isn't scary; it's figuring out what to do instead that terrifies me.

So I lay open to the moon.

I bare my heart to hir touch, and hir icy fingers wipe at my tears. Clouds glimmer in hir reflected energy.

To avoid a lover's quarrel, I concede. My promise sounds sincere in the crisp September air.

"I will learn to love myself."

Shi will come to me every night to be sure.

In my chilled, bare-skin way, like many lovers before hir, I kiss and walk away.

Finding my Wings

A budding writer could not emerge from his chrysalis too soon -- William Du Bois

Today, I told my mentor that I felt ready to break out of my chrysalis. We were discussing growth as a writer, and shi told me that shi thinks I am ready to start applying to writer's retreats and other writing endeavors. Shi told me the other day that if shi thought I wasn't ready for graduate school, shi wouldn't encourage my applying. That gives me some assurance that I am making the right steps toward my future.

Because isn't that what life is about? Always stepping toward the future? It's funny, because I move toward those goals, and yet, each day is special and unique and I don't worry too much about what I'm forgetting or what hasn't been done yet. I might not wake up tomorrow, so I have to make today count.

Every day I try to tell my father that I love in some way. A text message, a phone call, an email. I send him a letter every Monday.

I try to say hello to people when I see them. It may only be passing, but a smile and a kind word can mean so much to someone.

I'm waxing poetic here, repeating adage after adage. Maybe those sayings have some merit after all.

Today I bought an unlined sketchbook and a nice pen to use as a journal. The first thing I taped in it is a Robert Frost poem my mentor gave me. I'm feeling the call of the Pacific Ocean, and Frost writes about the ocean and it's power.

"Once By The Pacific"

The shattered waves made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by a cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God's last put out the light was spoken.

The List Is In

Womyn and Gentlemen, I have an announcement to make:

I have made the final decision on MFA programs to which I will apply for admission.

Yes, it's true. I finally, after much time spent with the Internet and the AWP Guide to Writing Programs, I have made the final, executive decision as to which programs I will apply. It has been a struggle to find programs that were both interesting and felt like a good fit, especially after the outstanding-ly positive experience of visiting Bowling Green, Ohio.

Here is the OFFICIAL list (in alphabetical order, to avoid playing favorites):

• Bowling Green State University


• Northern Michigan University


• University of Michigan at Ann Arbor


• University of Oregon at Eugene


• University of Pittsburgh


• University of Washington at Seattle


• West Virginia University

Now that the hard part of deciding on programs is over, I have to go through the admission requirements of each program and create a checklist to keep myself informed of the things remaining for each application. I also need to create an information sheet on each school's recommendation requirements for those individuals kind enough to write me letters of recommendation. Thirdly, I need to determine the total financial responsibility of applying to these schools, figure out how I'm going to pay the application fee for each school, and let the solution dictate how soon I am able to send off these applications.

There's not much work left.

Yesterday I sent a packet of poems to The Greensboro Review contest that has a deadline of September 15th. First prize is $500, and while I do not expect to win, perhaps they will accept my work for publication. But $500 would pay my conference fee for next summer's Minnesota Northwoods Writer's Conference, the same conference I worked as an intern for this past summer. I just need to keep submitting. If I don't submit my work places, then I won't ever get published.

Maybe I will write some poetry.

Midnight Under a Full Moon in a Field in Minnesota

Let me lean
into you.

With all the ease of
weight
less
ness
my head
upon
your shoulder

I watch your fingers
under mine
each word

I try to sing
without forgetting.

stars keep spinning

We stand there
dancing, still.

Tonight we
watch the moon unravel
catching her bare,
unadulterated

Let me lean
into you

our outline
fingers
tracing

lips just
brushing.

Things Every Writer Should Own

A heavy-duty 3-hole punch.

A strong stapler.

An electric pencil sharpener.

A pencil cup that makes you smile. :)

Paperclips that make you happy.

Plenty of white-out.

People you trust with your writing.

A good, thick dictionary (Got any good suggestions?).

Lots of different writing utensils, for when you get bored with one.

Books and quotes and writing that provide inspiration.

Post-it notes.

Lots of various music. And the possibility for silence.

Band-aids.

More paper than you could ever possibly fill in a lifetime.

A paper-recycling receptacle.

A place to go when the writing gets too much.

First Post

This is a blog about writing and the writing life.