thank you to the sweet readers who requested a vintch blog button. there's now a little link to the button on the right sidebar. blog buttons are super fun and remind me of american girl grin pins.
now on to the story...
i wore yellow tights to work yesterday.
when i slipped them on that morning, i was so happy. everything about them--from their retro mustard shade to their velvety texture, made my cold, gray morning a little brighter. they also made me smile with love, because they were picked out and purchased as a surprise for me by my sweet mama. late monday evening, she came to me, her hands sneakily behind her back. close your eyes and hold out your hand, she said, unable to hide her excitement. when she laid them in my open hand, i looked up at her. she was beaming. i found these for only $2! they're nine west! she exclaimed (if there was ever a question about where my love for thriftiness comes from, look no further than this woman).
and i loved them. i loved them so. and i loved her for knowing my style so well. for embracing what makes me unique and special and investing her time and money (no matter how much) into making me feel beautiful.
so i hopped into my car, played my favorite christian radio station, ran the heat on full until the cold left my bones, and started the day with a full heart.
then i got to work and it happened.
the polite, quick look-aways, as if my tights were blinding and they shouldn't look too long at them, like the sun. like it wouldn't have mattered if i had shown up to work completely naked sans the tights.
one man was walking a new employee around the office. he stopped at mine and introduced me as the girl with the yellow legs.
one woman came to my office, sat down beside me and said those are the most...unique...tights i've ever seen. i asked if that was a compliment. she said i don't know. i just really don't like that color.
to which i promptly thought:
well then, good thing they're my tights and not yours.
because i knew something she didn't. i knew that these tights were more than a fashion statement. more than just an accessory with my floral skirt and white sweater. more than a fabulous steal. more.than.yellow.
they were the physical manifestation of a bond between mother and daughter. of sweet sacrifice and thoughfulness. of monday night surprises after crockpot suppers.
and for that reason alone, i will wear them.
i also happen to really, really love them. and that realization fills my heart up so much that all the judging stares and rude comments, all of the slow-downs and second glances, corporate kitchen pauses and head-to-toe once overs