A Haiku to My Beauty
So, this morning, I had to run to Brooklyn, before my first meeting, to drop off Maggie at a friend's house for a play date. We were due at her friend's at 9 a.m., meaning we had to leave our house at 8 a.m. And I woke up at 7:30.
Not good.
That meant no shower, no clean hair, no breakfast, no coffee.
But the one thing I would not give up for lateness was fashion.
Nor would Maggie.
She and I have our priorities straight.
Fashion can lift me from despair, into poetry.
From crankiness, into humor.
From pathetic, to divine.
How?
Well, it is my little time to flirt with my circumstances.
I put on a skirt that I once wore on the Today Show to remind me that, even in my having-overslept haste, I am a star. I wanted to tone down the glamour of the skirt, so I put on a pair of flat brown riding boots that can stand a fast hike to the A train. Some crocheted tights for a flirt at the hemline. I popped on a dark brown sweater, to pay tribute to the fall day. And a gold necklace that the man I had dreamt about last night once gave me.  
So, my outfit was a little dialogue with me, by me, and for me.
It was a love letter to myself, composed with heart and haste, in service to all that lay before me on this most mundane, yet sacred, day in my life.
A haiku to my beauty.
A tipping of the hat to all I am, and all I stand for.