Happy Tuesday, lovelies.
Last night I was looking on Instagram and noticed that my pictures have been pretty colourful lately. I love posting my #OOTD (outfit of the day) a lot lately, and I have to smile at all of the colour in my wardrobe. I can't help but think that my grandmother would be so happy to see my daily outfits.
For the longest time my wardrobe mainly consisted of black, and grey. About two years ago I started incorporating purple, but that was it. My grandmother didn't like seeing anyone in black, especially not her granddaughter. I can't tell you how many times that sweet woman asked me to wear pink, red, or blue and I would just laugh.
'I don't look good in colour' I'd tell her, but she'd just shrug and smile.
These are clothes that I now own...
Last year my grandmother passed away. She made it clear that absolutely nobody could attend her funeral wearing black (also, it wasn't a funeral - it was a celebration of her life). I got the news that she had passed, packed my bags, hopped on a flight, and flew across the country (6,000+km) in about 10 hours. Once I got to Nova Scotia, my dad made it absolutely clear that I was not allowed to wear black to the funeral. I only brought black pants and jeans back to Nova Scotia. No Black, okay... jeans it was. Now for shirts, I only had black shirts. 'A-Ha!', I found a black and white floral shirt. My dad said it wasn't acceptable, so I went shopping and bought a bright pink ruffled tank top, and a bright blue ruffled tank top. I work the pink tank top and jeans (I know, it doesn't sound right) to my grandmothers celebration. Despite the fact that it wasn't what you would normally classify as 'appropriate' to wear when somebody passes away - I knew that Granny would have been happy that I wasn't in black.
Fast forward three months to the day that I fell in love with coloured pants. I found red jeans at the store and decided 'Why not?. I quickly became obsessed with coloured pants, and I started buying numerous pairs. I can't even remember the last time I bought normal jeans.
This addiction honestly came out of nowhere and now (on a daily basis) I'm wearing Coral, Mint Green, Fuchsia, etc... I love it, and I know Granny would be so happy.
A couple of said outfits:
Anyway, the whole point of this post was to say:
Apparently I've always had a colourful personality and my family has known it my whole life.
This is a quick story that my dad wrote about me when I was a kid:
Side-note: Dad asked me to title this story 'Duh'.
When Faith was 3 or 4, her older brother was being a bit chippy with Debbie and I about something. Faith sat quietly (and joyfully) as we chastised him for his poor behaviour. He retorted, as kids are want to do, that his sister didn’t get the same treatment and that he was being singled out … that she was somehow, favoured(Obviously I was your favourite child, dad). We assured them both that we were consistent and fair.
He couldn’t let it go and persisted in a highly sarcastic tone, “Faith is so perfect and never gets in trouble, but I always get yelled at...” We chided his attitude and told him to stop being sarcastic.
“Well at least I understand what that means. I bet Faith doesn’t even understand what sarcasm is.” Then looking at her, he taunted in the most sarcastic of voices, “Do you?”
We had to stifle our snickers as she, with comedian-like timing, did a perfect imitation of a teenage Valley-girl as she tossed her hair and twisted her little body with hand on hip and said, “Duh!”
Yep – she understands sarcasm.
I think what we take from this story is that I've always had an understanding of sarcasm and I most definitely have always had a colourful personality.
