Sometimes You Need To Speak Up

           

NO!!!! Don't let her look like that! (from People of Walmart)

One morning last week I went into work with my hair down, still wet since I took a shower the night before and then went to bed, and lip gloss on – my quick fix to the dreaded winter split lip you brass players may understand (too much playing plus dry weather = not good). One of my friends looked at me, and then looked again, and said, “Who are you all dressed up for today?” I looked at him with a bewildered glance and answered, “No one.” Obviously. Lip gloss and clean hair do not spell dressed up in my book. It did get me thinking though. I came to the conclusion that, “Wow I must really look like shit when I go to work if wearing lip gloss and my hair down garners a second glance.” And while I came to this conclusion, it was in a joking manner, of course.

            I even discussed this with my friend Beth. We laughed about it. Not a big deal. Then, I decided to share the little anecdote with my mother, who I drive to work with. After the punch line conclusion, she pursed her lips a little and paused. Again, I must highlight I DRIVE TO WORK WITH HER. “Well, you do look pretty messy a lot of the time.” Actually, I believe the word she used was “unkempt.” “It seemed like you were trying really hard not to care. Or that you were trying to keep people away from you.”

            WHAT THE HELL?! I must also include that we leave the house before 6am. I am not, never have been, and never will be a morning person. I put a little bit of trust in the people that I am around before 8:30-9:00 am that if I had put my underwear on outside my pants and forgot a shirt they would tell me. I would also consider looking “unkempt” to be something I’d like to know about. I mean, I’ve noticed at noon a couple of days that I’ve had my shirt on backwards. I usually have on something like 3 sweatshirts, so no one else would know. This should give you a decent idea, however, of how out of it I am in the morning. My mom said nothing, admittedly because she was afraid I would yell at her.

            Things that would cause me to yell at you in the morning include knocking on my door in the morning to tell me what time it is when my alarm is not scheduled to go off for at least a half hour, stealing my coffee, cutting me off in your car (I’ll yell about that at all times of day), and dropping weights on my feet at the gym (that hasn’t happened yet, but there has been a near miss). Telling me I look like a homeless person before I leave the house, in an effort to look out for my well being, would not cause me to yell. It would cause me to say, “Oh shit. Thank you.” THANK YOU! I know full well that my friend Beth would do this for me, perhaps a little so she wouldn’t have to be seen with me, and I would afford her the same courtesy. We both agreed, though, that neither of our moms would warn us in this situation for fear of making us angry.

            I would like to clear something up right now for any and all moms, dads, and friends out there. If someone you know, who usually doesn’t look dreadful, comes out of their house in such a state that you wonder what happened to them, it is not mean to tell them to go back inside and try again. Things like the tightness of pants, length of dress, choice to not wear tights in single digit weather, could be generational, subjective, and maybe things you should just keep quiet about and turn up your nose at when they’re not looking (depending on how close y’all are). Missing garments, looking like a toddler picked out the outfit, hair in a bird’s nest style heap, see through anything – these things fall into the category in which you should be a good Samaritan and say something. I assure you, even if the person seems annoyed at first they will thank you in the end. I certainly would, anyways. And to anyone I work with who might read this, no I don’t usually look like a homeless person. Even though my mom’s been letting me walk into work looking like one - for a year.

*Disclaimer: I might be prone to hyperbole when referring to my look as homeless.