Strap/Hanger

HuggableBlackShirtPantHanger_xMy hangers have been more important than I am. When I go out I quickly find that I have thin strands coming out of my sides. I haven’t gotten into the habit of cutting the strings on my dresses and shirts that hang out of my sleeves when I wear them. Instead I have loyally kept them attached so that I can hang them neatly in my closet. Apparently I respect the garment more than I care for myself.

Actually it has more to do with the discovery that there are still small life skills that allude me. I was in my last year of college when I saw someone drying themselves with a towel following a shower. I had always just wiped the towel quickly around me, leaving me damp. His towel was rolled up, then he went front to back, side to side, leaving him completely dry. A small discovery, but it spoke volumes of how much I needed to learn if I wanted to feel “normal.”

I taught myself to cook and bake as a kid. I read recipes, and was pleasantly surprised that if I followed directions meals usually turned out. Sometimes I experimented, and that was dicey. Some things went well, like custard. Some foods were questionable like Swedish meatballs. I forgot to drain the grease before pouring in the sauce. So they were greasy meatballs. Lesson learned. All in all, though, I can cook.

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But when it comes to my everyday wardrobe I’m not too savvy. That is about to change. Even post-50 I am coming to terms with faulty life lessons. I felt as if I might betray my clothes if I were to cut the strings. Somehow strings attached was how I lived my life. I might get in trouble. If I cut the strings, the garment would fall off the hanger, and it would be hidden in my closet collecting wrinkles, which would make it uninhabitable when I’m rushing to dress in the morning.   The hanger strings were like the unlawfully discarded labels on mattresses. They stayed on no matter what.

Yet this last month I have been able to cut those strings one garment at a time. I no longer try to hide the strings by wrapping them uselessly around my bra strap. I no longer push them back under my top throughout the day. I am more comfortable. It’s one less irritant in my life.

No doubt I’ll find other life lessons yet to learn. But for right now, I am taking pleasure in having no strings attached.

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