Why I Love Women, More on Stitch Fix, and a Confession

This morning I opened the door of the small, private hair salon I go to and was greeted with great joy and excitement. Right at the door stood my stylist/friend Nicole and one of her customers, who immediately started shouting things like, “And here she is! There’s one on each side of you! [laughter, applause]. This is so great! [More applause]. Let’s roll out the red carpet! [Nicole had a brown towel in her hands and laid it on the floor in front of me]. Oh my God, she’s here at last! Hooray!” So I laugh and shout with them, and I step onto the towel and bow and give a Queen Elizabeth wave to the two women. I’m complimented and applauded some more. I applaud them back. Mind you, I did absolutely nothing but walk in the door. 

I was eventually introduced to Sue, and we hugged rather than shook hands because we were clearly great friends. I assume Sue and Nicole were yukking it up about who-knows-what, and having a grand old time of it, when I arrived. And since I jumped into the celebration with similar excitement, it escalated and we all had a laugh-til-you-pee-your-pants start to the day. We then complimented each other’s youthfulness, hair, outfits, and all-around good style, and Sue left. Nicole and I moved directly into sharing stories about kids, husbands, hair, houses, eyebrows, anxiety, mustaches (on women), rape, young women and what they wear today, jaw joints and face pain, the gluten-free lifestyle (because that’s a requirement these days), being happy with our extra pounds, the best time of the day to drink wine, etc. Anyway, I was with Nicole for the next two hours and I still have NO IDEA what the whole celebration at the door was about.

It doesn’t even matter, though. It was one of those wonderful moments when a woman, a complete stranger, just “gets you,” with no introduction or foreknowledge whatsoever. Have you ever noticed how many of us can jump into an immediate friendship just because we’re willing to go all in, to give of ourselves to other women who are willing to give their own selves back to us? I’ve met many women at a conference or a mutual friend’s house or a bar, or even waiting in line for a bathroom, who stick in my mind and with whom I shared a bond. Some of those women became good friends immediately, and still are. With others, we’ve gone our separate ways and that was the end of it, but I still remember them and they’re still a part of me. 

Have you ever seen men do that? Have you ever seen them hug and laugh and tell intimate stories and cry together after a five-minute acquaintance? Hell, even after a five YEAR acquaintance? Ha!

So to women everywhere: I love you for being willing to open yourselves to friendship, laughter, and love, at the most random places and in the most spontaneous of ways. You make my world a happier place.

On a different topic, I wanted to show you another item of clothing I got in my first Stitch Fix box.

Blouse from Stitch Fix, Not Your Daughter’s Jeans (but the boots ARE my daughter’s, actually…)

The blouse I’m wearing here was one of the three shirts that came from Stitch Fix. I wasn’t sure about it, but Lizzie loved it and convinced me to keep it, and I’m really glad I did. It’s got tiny pleats down the front, wide sleeves, and a satiny, scalloped neck and swingy hemline with grommets. Wait, grommets? Is that the right word?

Neckline, scallops and grommets

The jeans are the brand Not Your Daughter’s Jeans (NYDJ) and I LOVE them. I’ve got a couple of pairs of this brand and they fit so beautifully. I should add that in the photo above, they have been worn at least six times without being washed (I’m not proud to admit it, but this is a safe place to tell the truth) and they still fit the right way in all the right places – no saggy butt or saggy knees. Also, they don’t smell, I swear.

The boots are ones I stole from Lizzie because her instep is too high and it’s hard for her to find a pair of cowboy boots that fit and are comfortable. She thought these fit the bill, but no. Her loss is clearly my gain, which is only fair seeing  as how so many of my clothes have a sneaky habit of finding their way to her closet.

Now for the confession: when I wrote about Stitch Fix the first time, and raved about them, I said that it was not an ad and I was not being paid, which is totally true. BUT, later I added a link which is a referral link from me, so if you use it and order something from Stitch Fix from that link, then I get a $25 credit. So I swear I didn’t hide anything from you and I’m not being paid but I’ve been feeling guilty ever since I added the link and had to come clean. If you happen to want to check out Stitch Fix, and end up ordering, it would be great if you could use this link, but that is NOT why I wrote what I wrote. Phew. I felt like a liar-cheaterpants and now I don’t. See the power of truth-telling?

Have fun until next time, my friends



PS: Nicole went a little darker with my hair this time. I love it. She calls it “mocha.” Paul said it looks red. Liz says it’s purple. Jim (who I said last week was 13 but who corrected me today: he’s actually 14) called it “a good hair color for fall.” He’s clearly a 14-year-old fashionista.

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