Thanks to Oloriel of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last Sunday’s Writing Prompt Challenge. I’m still playing catchup from NaPiWriMo and A to Z, a month later. Oloriel has given us some detailed names of colors to use in a story of some ‘peculiar ‘ kind.
Amaranthine clouds covered the sky as nighttime faded suffusing the morning with clouds of titian and vermillion. Jacob gazed up looking for the curulean sky, he’d even settle for a griege sky. But against all hope the curulean sky never arrived and erythaean red mixed with aubergine llfusing with a sickly viris blackening the sky and ocean.
The vibrant erythaean red came with a warning Jacob the fishermen could not ignore. The quote his great- grandfather used, that his Grandpa used, and his dear father also mimicked, flickered through Jacob’s mind: “Red sky at night, sailors delight; red sky at mourn, sailors be warned.”
The ocean was churning now, a deep dank lovat and zinnobar. The waves crashed against Jacob’s tiny boat. He felt most insignificant in the myriad of colors he’d witnessed this dawn and in the vastness of the angry ocean. A crack of lightning had Jacob jumping, hurrying to bring the fishing boat to harbor before the storm came closer. He pulled on ropes and adjusted his sails, steering the boat towards land that appeared close but was too far away.
He mumbled ‘Hail Marys’ and hoped above hope, soaked to the bone, as the ocean threatened to capsize his fishing boat. Then, brilliant xanthic lightning hit the boat and Jacob bumped his head, falling unconscious the waves battered his ship.
The next thing he knew, he was lying on a sandy beach, his boat mostly undamaged sitting further up shore. He didn’t know how he or his boat had managed to survive but he gazed up at the clear azure sky and thanked God for his good fortune. His favourite color was a sunny azure blue it meant tranquility and a good day’s catch. It was quiet hope being strengthened after the horror of a storm.
It takes a great deal of pushing and a lot of poking to make me angry, but Yasmine knew which buttons to push. The neighbors never heard us fight, until that night in August.
“You always want to be together; I can’t be with you all the time. I’ve work and sometimes I need alone time, and occasionally, guy time.” I yelled.
Yasmine flicked back her long brown hair and laughed at my rage; she was far away inside her head again; I could tell.
“Look who’s upset,” she said softly. “It took me a long time to make you this angry, Logan. I thought you would never notice me. You’re always leaving me home alone.”
“Yasmine, I’m extremely upset at you, scared for your mental well being, and scared for our relationship. But you think my words are a joke.” I say.
She laughs and slids her arm around my shoulders. I shrug it off. Yasmine crosses her arms and says:”Calm down Logan. Stop being such an ass. Your married, you don’t get space anymore.”
“Being married doesn’t mean no space.You never used to be this way Yasmine. You did stuff with your friends and visited relatives. You also worked as a successful interior designer.” I told her.
“Now, you stay home all day and you lay in bed. I’m trying and I know you’re not well. But one of us has to work and support us financially. You need to look for ways to occupy your time. Read, write, watch TV, walk, or pretend you’re designing a new interior space.”
Yasmine gave a thin smile at my suggestions. “I suppose you want me to keep visiting the psychiatrist, the doctor who says I’m suffering from depression because I lost our baby.” Tears leaked out of Yasmine’s deep brown eyes. I wiped them away.
“I think it’s best for you Yasmine. The psychiatrist makes sense. You’re sad, tearful, and you can barely make it out of bed. You’re also anxious and you’ve terrible self-esteem right now. When I tell you you’re wonderful, talented, and beautiful, you don’t believe me. Yesterday, you said you believed you were a baby killer.” I said.
Yasmine smirked.”Before the baby died, I believed you. Now, I don’t believe you’re telling me the truth. I’m in awful shape and I think you’re placating me. I believe you’d rather by anywhere else and not with me.”
“Listen,” I told Yasmine. ” When I said I need space, all I meant was I need some time each week, where I can tye up loose ends from work. I also need a night away from you every week or two. For my own mental health, I need a few hours where I can forget and not deal with our issues.”
“I talked to your friends Becca and Lynn,” I told her. “They said they’d love to take turns hanging out with you one night a week if you’re okay with that? You guys could go see a movie or go shopping, something along those lines?”
Yasmine buried herself beneath the comforter on the couch.”I don’t want to see my friends, look at me? And I need you here Logan; I was thinking, we could have another baby?”
“It’s not that I don’t want another baby with you sweet heart, ” I say carefully. “I keep telling you, it’s not your fault Jacob died. It happens to many woman with their first pregnancy. It’s just right now, you’re still recovering from losing Jacob.” I told Yasmine.
She covered her ears, “I don’t want to hear it Logan. Stop talking. It’s my fault Jacob died; I didn’t take care of myself. Now, I’m sick and I feel I can’t do anything. Everything makes me tired and I’m so mad at myself.”
I sat down beside Yasmine and rubbed her back.” Relax. We have time. Work on feeling better. Try to take a short walk, even around the block. Be in the sun on the patio to get more vitamin D and sleep whenever you need. However, you have to promise to take your pill.” I said.
“I don’t want to! I hate my med. It makes me feel foggy.” Yasmine complained.
“The doctor says in a month or so, when you’re used to the medication, the fogginess will go away. But you have to let your body get used to the anti-depressant. I notice when you take them, you’re much happier. You get out of bed. You make conversation. You sketch out designs for rooms,” I tell her.
“But Logan . . .”
“Please, for two-weeks, try taking your pill. If you don’t, the Doctor says you’ll have to go back in hospital, Yasmine, ” I begged.
Suddenly, Yasmine flew into a rage. She pushed at me and screamed. She grabbed her car keys before I could catch her and snuck in the elevator. When I reached her parking space, it was empty. I’ve never seen Yasmine again.
Yasmine’s my wife and it hurts me to know she could be anywhere and I can’t help her. I don’t know if she’s well or still suffering from depression. No one’s been able to find her, not even a private detective.
I grieved for Yasmine. It took me two-years before I started writing my stories down in journals. I thought, when Yasmine came back, she could read about what happened in my life after she left. I tried to make my journal entertaining for her to read.
Then, they found her body. Parts of me ached which I never knew existed, when I learned Yasmine was dead. I’m not sure how they can find out how she died now. But I’ve convinced myself I caused her to commit suicide.
I tear the pages out of my journals; I had had them bound and printed into volumes for Yasmine to read. Now I know she will never be able to read what I wrote.
Broken and grieving, I destroyed all my journal volumes. All the typed pages scattered across the floor in my office. Broken journals, like my heart.
How does one heal after hurting so long, believing their other half, couldn’t be dead?
Ah, sweet youth. No matter whether you grew up sporting a fedora, penny loafers, poodle skirts, bell-bottoms, leg-warmers, skinny jeans, Madonna-inspired net shirts and rosaries, goth garb, a spikey mohawk, or even a wave that would put the Bieber to shame, you made a fashion statement, unique to you. Describe your favorite fashions from days of yore or current trends you think are stylin’.——–
I think I have always been interested in clothes and shopping. I remember being a small girl helping my Mom decide what to wear when she was going out for dinner or to something with my Dad’s work. We didn’t have a lot of money when I was little so my Mom often sewed her clothes and even some of ours.
Mom has been sewing since she learned how to sew when she was a young teenager. My Baba and Grandpa Wilson didn’t have much money and Mom could stretch her dollar by buying fabric and thread and not buying something ready made. Not to mention, when my Mom sewed she could sew so her outfit fit her perfectly. She is short so she could make her pants whatever length she wanted and her dresses could be any fabric she chose.
In elementary school, Mom made my first two winter jackets. The one I remember most was a purple jacket with purple snow pants. I got to choose the color. I never chose pink because when you’re a blond girl whose young everyone wants to dress you in pink clothes. I don’t think I ever wore pink again until high school.
I went to Brownie’s for a bit on Tuesday nights at this church. I loved how all the girls wore these dresses with big skirts that were frilly. So, my Mom made me this black dress with pink and purple flowers and we bought a frilly white skirt to put underneath. I wore that dress along time.
As I became older, my Mom worked a bit as a supervisor at our school lunch program so we had a bit more money and could afford clothes from stores more. Also, my Mom had less time to sew. There was this store I liked when I was around eight to ten-years-old called Please Mum and I fit their clothes well. I was stocky as a little girl. We didn’t go to the mall often but when we did my Mom would often by me something. She bought me this white blouse once and it had a frilly clown collar. I told her I would wear it but you know what I hated that collar it was too girly for me then.
Later, there was a store Northern Reflections for Kids and my Mom bought us clothes there. I was fashionable for the nineties I suppose. I wore jeans in various colours that were ‘Mom Jean’ like in a relaxed fit and went skinny at the ankle. I wore ugly sweater vests and mock knocked shirts.
In grade six I began to thin out and all I remember wearing were oversized T-shirts and flares. The flares weren’t too big in grade six but I remember they got bigger like to “elephant” pants in grade eight. My Mom made me a pair of green cord elephant pants. I also loved these sweat pants I had with a rainbow ribbon down the side of each pant leg and the flare was pretty big coming down from the knee.
In high school for the majority of it, I wore a uniform. I wore a grey kilt, a white blouse, a navy sweater/cardigan/vest and tie. I wore knee socks and dress black shoes. There were casual t-shirts and long sleeved shirts and casual pants but I mostly wore a kilt with little gym shorts underneath with a pair of name brand converse type shoe. I cared about fashion and tried to dress my most stylish on the few non-uniform days we had. I bought my clothes on sale at The Gap or Jacob. I loved Jacob clothes for along time but they shut down in Canada last year. I wore flares in jeans and khaki’s and I liked pink a lot. I wore pink three quarter length shirts and I had the cutest black jean jacket that I received for Christmas with Ruffles at the top of the shoulders. Plus, we all tried to find substitutes for our uniform clothing that a busy teacher wouldn’t catch. Needless to say, the vice-principal started calling almost everyone to the obvious one day a month and we would all get written up for having uniform infractions. The rest of my high school clothes were gym sweatpants and hoodies, team shorts, and team t-shirts. I played both volleyball and basketball so those things were a must along with good runners. My parents paid for items such as a winter coat or new shoes but everything else including skincare and makeup I purchased with family allowance money. Both my parents had good jobs, in fact my Dad was the principal at my high school, but they paid for my tuition partially because in junior and senior high school I went to private schools.
In university, I worked on campus at the bookstore. I paid for half my tuition, got scholarships, and received my books at cost because I worked at the bookstore. I liked yoga pants and sporty tops especially by Fila and Adidas. My jeans were flared and from the Gap. With my birthday and Christmas money I went shopping before each school year. And I bought other clothes with money earned during the year.
Lululemon became a huge thing in university. Despite being an expensive yoga store, all girls bought hoodies, shirts, zippy’s, and yoga pants/crops there. I still have my first Lululemon top and it still looks good. On the other end of the sporty spectrum was the bar shirt spectrum. We shopped for sexy black shirts and tiny skirts to wear out to the bar. Not to mention a comfortable enough pair of high heels. Somedays in university I dressed up with heeled boots, jeans, and a tight long sleeved top but because I was hauling around boxes of books and going to the gym everyday, sporty clothes were good. We also had one or two formals every year in university so I had a few pretty dresses for formal occasions from Le Chateau. My favorite was this slinky pink dress I got for $13.00 and it had no back. But it fit tight and I paired it with some silver sandals and it looked great.
After, I left university I looked through my wardrobe and realized I had only two blouses and one pair of dress pants. I wasn’t making much money yet, I was just temping but a place called Ricki’s had a sales rack with pairs of pants all my size, a suit that fit me, and I found a couple blouses at Jacob cheap. That did me for my first job before I became sick and went on disability. I hated how cheap Ricki’s material felt. My Mom always made emphasis on good material but $80.00 for four pairs of pants, a jacket, and a couple blouses was truly a good deal.
When I was sick I lost a lot of weight so at first nothing fit me. Then I gained it all the weight back and then some. Once I reached about 175 lbs I was able to shop. Even though I was on disability, I had more spendable income because it was too hard to go for more then coffee with friends so I wasn’t spending money at the bar or out with co-workers at lunch. I wasn’t even paying rent at that time.
I bought Lululemon and I had just started to begin getting into Banana Republic for clothes for work that were more expensive but of quality. I started shopping online because it was easier and found that BR clothes went 40 % off often. But I liked how their clothing fit, the material was nice, and if I bought clothes on sale, it was a good place to shop. Skinny pants have come in so I buy jeans and black pants from them. They are great for sweaters or cardigans with wool and cashmere blends. Their shirts fit well. I liked the blendability of the pieces and especially the dresses and skirts.
I cannot work now,so I dress up when I go out for an appointment or to see a friend. I like Simons too for a little cheaper clothing that is more of a fad. Jacob is no longer, as I said. And I love Anthropologie and its boho look but it is too expensive with the rate of the Canadian dollar.
When I see fashion I think they want us to wear big bulky shapeless sweaters over skinny pants. On most people even if you’re skinny a belt that gives you a waist or a tighter shirt underneath a cardigan looks nicer. I hate the wide wide pants that are trying to come in. I don’t think they will because they are too big and don’t look good on anyone. But I could see flares coming back in as they seem to have a little bit.
I like that there is colour out this winter, not only black or grey. I think skinny pants look good on most people it depends how you wear them. Sometimes a shirt a little more tunic length looks better but I have seen nice looks with moto leather jackets and blouses too that are shorter. Peplum has been in awhile and I think it is a flattering shirt or dress style. I love pearls and pearl like jewelry and I like to mix my mettle colours of jewelry. I like high heels and tall boots. But I think the shorter boots might be in for awhile now. Booties are good in Fall in Canada but I like the taller boots in Winter for warmth. The problem is it’s hard to get boots for smaller or thicker calf sizes. I like flowy tops that give you a waist and float out and cover stomach problems. But I like tighter shirts honestly most of the time, the show shape. I still like Lululemon for anytime and for Yoga and workout wear. I like to look put together in general and look for classic silhouettes. But I do find a modern thing here or there I like. What about you?
Prompt: How important are clothes to you? Describe your style, if you have one, and tell us how appearance impacts how you feel about yourself.
It has always been important to me to have clothes that make me look good ever since I was a little girl. When we were poorer and did not have so much money I hated that I had to wear second hand clothing from some other little girl but I knew we were poor so I didn’t complain much about it. I have had to buy my own clothes since about grade eight and I did not have much money to buy clothes until I was in university. Before that, Christmas or my Birthday was a grand affair because I got to go shopping and buy whatever I liked at the stores I liked. But I still always bought only clothes on sale to stretch my funds.
Luckily in highschool, we wore uniforms but there was always one day a month where we got to wear street clothes so it was a big deal to have a new outfit every month. I had a bit of money so most often I was able to scrape enough money together to buy a new shirt at least. In university, I wore what I wanted and mostly had the money to shop a bit and buy what I liked every so often. Luckily, my tastes ran to Gap, Jacob, and Hollister and those stores had sales very often. So usually, I could always find a shirt or two and occasionally I would buy an item from Lululemon since wearing yoga clothes to school from Lululemon was a big deal.
My style now runs more to what I like to wear. Every couple months I can get an outfit I like and I can buy it from where I would like to which is usually Banana Republic, Anthropologie, Lululemon, or Victoria Secret. I enjoy shopping but I also learned from over shopping about 3 years back, that too much shopping can get you into debt (along with other things). I have a budget of what I can spend on clothes or even makeup and I stick to those budgets.
I think you can tell that appearance is quiet important to me but you have to wear what suits you and looks good on you. I am almost 30-years-old and I’m a couple sizes bigger then what I was in university and I can’t wear the tight bar tops and short skirts I use to on a night out. I can’t wear tummy revealing tops tops to school and I would rather people see me as professional or at least well put together. I would always care about this because my mother taught me to but also because I am sick and can’t work I look a lot more approachable, intelligent, and with it if I dress nice. This does not mean I will always be able to shop at Anthropologie but wherever I can shop I will shop to look nice.
I feel better if I am dressed nice as if I have my armour on to face the world. I feel more confident, and more like myself. I feel ready to face the day and take on the tasks I need to get done. Even if I am just going to a doctors appointment I dress up and don’t wear yoga pants. This makes me feel I am on the same level with my physician and that he or she knows I mean business and can comprehend well what they are saying because I am educated and have insight into what they are saying to me. Do clothes make the woman? No, the woman makes the clothes and they help her present herself in life.
There you have it! I have uttered the words I never thought I would say. I am not just sick of shopping and fashion, I have become a junky. You see there is a certain high you get, a rush of endorphins, from buying that beautiful dress or that fine silk shirt. There is an addiction behind every Pinterest post in Women’s Clothing, to see where that lovely pair of shoes came from. There is an addictive quality to every issue of Instyle that I pour over; I trace that pretty dress back to the website it came from loving its supposed uniqueness. And as I browse through the mall I feel like I have to get something, just a little something – I need that hair spray varnish that makes your hair shine; I need that lace skirt because well it is a-line and that is hard to find in a skirt, plus it’s lace and that is so ‘in’ and so lovely.
I think after the month of picking out the perfect Christmas presents – I
have had enough of the mall at least. Today walking through the mall I only bought what I needed. I bought bus tickets, stamps, Christmas cards, and hair volumizer because I really did actually need that stuff. I am becoming better at the mall, ignoring Jacob, Banana Republic, Le Chateau, Sephora. It just seems I am always buying stuff and I’m sick of it; yet some things I really do need!
And do not get me started on the Internet. On line shopping has become an addiction that I cannot shake. Unlimited or nearly unlimited selection and sizing. Easy returns that include return shipping labels and or free shipping for $50.00. Groupons and Living Socials to Spas – sometimes they save money but let’s face it I’m addicted and bored and when I start not receiving those packages in the mail and deals to the spa; I feel empty – that shopping high fades and I’m left with that empty feeling: what does a girl with health problems, whose ability to work and do physical activity is not very big do? I do not know how I will just stop but I know now after my last order comes in that will be it for the shopping of clothing and accessories; this time I have to break the habit and find that high somewhere else, where I do not know. Writing helps but I used to get that rush of endorphins from exercise so now where?
I have these lofty goals you see. To save and pay off my credit card- it’s not too high but high enough! I want to save in tax free savings. Save so in May I can actually spend just a little bit on shopping in Montreal. I need to save for the future. But this shopping addiction is dangerous for me – I just need more things to do, less things that involve browsing the Internet for clothes. It has become a hobby, has always been one and I still want to be fashionable but I want to follow my budget too. I need to learn how to do this now for life. So yes, I hate shopping and fashion, the thorn in my side!
But what is really in the balance here besides financial stability is self control; and one must always have self control to some extent. In this case, it is okay for me to buy an outfit once a month, it is not okay for me to do this every week.
I feel very disconcerted admitting this. But think of it as an early New Years resolution; but it’s better to just start doing something, than to wait and do more damage. Along with the usual ‘do more exercise’ I will do almost no excess shopping. I’ll buy only what I need and ignore those longings for spring dresses, holiday cuffs that sparkle, and silky lingerie – I love Victoria Secret – but no longer. I have built my dream wardrobe, all the clothes I never could buy before – funny thing is being ill- I often have no place to wear them. Life is ironic.
So anything like shopping, you find addictive ( besides drugs) any advice about gaining self control and financial stability? Let me know.