On Sunday, September 16 I slipped in some mud at my favorite bar (sober) and fell. I broke my ankle in three places, and tore several ligaments. A week later, I had surgery to repair the damage. I’ve been pretty much housebound since.
Talking about ability is hard. Talking about ability when you are on narcotics and having a lot of feelings and pain is even harder. So let’s talk about outfits for right now.
For the past three weeks, I’ve been stuck at home. I mean, I made a brief trip to the hospital for surgery (they didn’t even keep me overnight) but mostly I’ve been here, in my bed or on my couch. I’m lucky to have a great community that cares for me, and I’ve had a pretty steady stream of visitors. Dressing for convalescence has been interesting to think about, and (to be real) nice to think about when other things I might be thinking about got too heavy.
I’ve been wearing a lot of bike shorts. Turns out that dresses and skirts get bunched up when you are rolling around in bed trying to get comfy all the time. Not cute. So bike shorts. I had one lace trimmed pair that was custom made by Allihalla, and now I have three more pairs that I ordered. Bike shorts and cute tops have been my uniform. No bras. Bras are for suckers who go outside.
But today a cold front (64 degrees in texas, HAY!) threw a wrench in my routine. Right now, getting dressed involves asking someone benevolent (usually my housemate Jesse, but today my friend Amy) to fetch me clothes from my closet. I say things like “What is that white thing on the second shelf? Can you bring me that lace shirt? No, not that one, the other one on the third shelf.” I am particular, and now everyone knows it.
Today, because it is cold and I wanted my window open, I am wearing this:
Yes, I look smug. It is because I stood up balanced on one foot for long enough that Amy could take a picture of me that I approved of. I’m wearing brown leggings (I cut part of the leg off on the left side so it would fit over my cast), a white slip, and my favorite yellow and navy flannel.
This is what I have. This and a million feelings about ability and access, what it means to be fat and (temporarily) less able, the ways that I value my body based on ability and strength, finding value in my life during a time that I can’t go to work, asking for what I need, knowing what I need, the ways that I consistently expect NOT to get what I need. I could go on and on, but this is about fashion.
I’m going to start to try to take more photos of my outfits, and make more space to write about my feelings now that I’m on less narcotics. Being injured is terrifying, and I’ve started to realize that it is going to be part of my life for some time. I’ll know more tomorrow, and until then, I’ll be grateful that my hair looks awesome even when I’ve been laying down all day and only washing it once a week.
PS I’m growing out all my facial hair during this time, because standing in front of the sink to shave seems super unnecessary and painful, and you know this blog is called lazy femme for a reason. Also, look! I’m bionic!