I'm Not That Gal

A new year is upon us, and social media posts encourage us to get it together and be amazing next year as we turn the sharp corner from the joys of Christmas to the burdens of resolutions. With age comes wisdom, and sometimes, in trying to discover who we are, it is helpful to know who we aren’t. Society puts so many norms upon women that it's hard to separate the good from the better from the doesn’t matter.

The older I’ve grown, the more I realize we are all wonderfully and fearfully made, and if there was only one way to do things, the world would be boring. Fashion exists to create unique looks with different fabrics for different bodies. God did not create me to fit into size 2 pants, even if I starved myself all year, and I love a splash of color and print. Money aside, if everyone’s house looked like Architectural Digest, then the magazine would cease to exist. Nothing to see here, folks, that looks just like my house.

The same is true with our personalities—there is no one-size-fits-all. I am thankful for the adventurers who hike to the Antarctic and take photos so I can see it from the comfort of my home, but I’m not that gal. I’m a planner, but I’m grateful for seat-of-the-pants friends who encourage me to be more spontaneous. In this beautiful, symbiotic world we live in, there are people who are and people who aren’t, but no better or best. It’s all good.

One caveat: there are all ways we can be a better person, of course. I would love to be kinder this year. And more patient. And thinner. But will I ever be naturally thin? Nope. I swear when I get to heaven God is going to say, “I’m so sorry you worked so hard all your life to be thin. I made you curvy like a renaissance painting.”

Titian - The Rape of Europa

So as the new year rings its ominous bell, instead of striving to be someone I am not, I am taking a deep breath and drawing some lines between who I am and who I will never be.

Carry-on Luggage?

I’m a checker. I need choices. I need shoes. I need multiple outfits in case it rains or snows or I eat a little too much and want stretchy pants. I have friends who could travel for a year with a backpack, but I check a large suitcase for a weekend. If you’re looking for someone to travel with only a carry-on, I’m not that gal.

Capsule Wardrobe?

Each year, influencers encourage us to boil our wardrobe down to about fifteen pieces in shades of beige, cream, and white. They admonish us to invest in monochromatic quality clothes that will stand the test of time. But I love colors and prints and cheap impulse buys from TJ Maxx that may last a summer. I have a sweater in my closet that I’ve had since the late 1980s (It used to be oversized), and even though it’s scratchy and hot and I would need to be taking photographs in the Antarctic to not overheat immediately, I might wear it again someday. It’s doubtful, but it’s one time it’s easy for me to hope. There is always something to cull out of my closet, and I harvest a few bags a year, but it’s still full. My sister-in-law has a rail-thin body and a capsule wardrobe, and I love her, but I’m not that gal.

Gourmet Cook?

The worst culinary trend for me in the last ten years was the shift away from canned soup casseroles and jello. My King Ranch Chicken, made with Campbell’s cream o’ chicken and mushroom soups, was the bomb. And that strawberry jello salad with the crushed pretzel crust and cheesecake topping? It was always a crowd pleaser. I could still hold my head up high and serve them anyway, not caring if I clogged my guests’ arteries or fed them man-made ingredients, and sometimes I do, but ignorance was bliss. I don’t want to make a roux. I would rather open a can. I like simple, quick recipes that taste good. If the recipe lists over ten ingredients, most of which I don’t have on hand, it’s not for me. I’m not that gal. If you’re that guy or gal, please invite me for dinner.

Minimalist?

I veer toward being a hoarder. One man’s junk is another’s precious keepsake. Hoarders need minimalists to help them get rid of some stuff, and minimalists need hoarders to tell them it’s okay to keep that snow globe you made in 5th grade. Why are there no articles urging minimalists to invest in more tchotchkes? Now this is going to ruffle some of you, because I find like Miracle Whip revolts mayonnaise lovers, minimalists feel it is their way or the highway, but even they can admit they know someone whose home has a bunch of crap in it and they love them anyway and feel comfy and cozy there. It is an ongoing battle of tchotchkes, curios, mementos, and knick-knacks at my house, but there is plenty of room to prop up your feet on my coffee table. I will never be a sparse decorator. I’m not that gal, and it’s okay.

Early adopter?

Roald Amundsen and Helmer Hanssen make observations at the South Pole, 1911 © National Library of Norway

Like Amundsen bravely exploring the polar regions, some of you love to be the first to try something new. Not me. I never download the latest iOS when it comes out, preferring to let someone else shake the kinks out. A statistical sampling of Amazon or Google reviews makes me feel like a one-eyed king in the land of the blind. (Note: this does not seem to apply to novel kitchen gadgets.) If you are an adventurous early adopter, thank you for identifying the glitches or flaws. I’m not that gal. I like to remind myself that Amundsen died on a rescue mission in a flying boat near the North Pole. Better to be safe than sorry.

Trendy hairstyle?

I learned my lesson circa 1973 when my mom apparently cut my hair with a bowl while my friends rocked luxuriously long locks. Better to blend in than stick out. I will never have blue hair (intentionally) or the latest hairdo. Wisdom and some bad choices have taught me that everyone has a hair lane they need to stay in, and I like to keep bumper rails on mine. Dorothy Hamill was a trailblazer, God bless her, but I’m not that gal.

A purist?

Costco’s success tells me I am not alone in loving a good knockoff. Kirkland's is a premium brand in our house, and if it looks more expensive than it is, sign me up. I love a bargain like a clown loves a parade. I will scour the internet looking for a deal, then proudly brag about it. Some call it cheap; I call it resourceful.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking. I see it. There is a trend here. I’m cautious (some might say fearful). I’m calculated (some might say anal retentive). I’m a researcher (some might say obsessive). But as I’ve grown older, I realize that despite years of counseling, there are some things that will not change, and I embrace them and offer them to the world. If you need someone to do an extensive Google search on your medical condition, a product you are considering purchasing, or any historical topic, I’m your gal. If you want me to analyze the pros and cons of your potentially life-changing decision while cheering you on either way, I’m your gal. If you want a loyal and true friend who looks out for you, I’m your gal.

There are exceptions to any rule, and this year I stretched myself. I carried on a bag for a four-day weekend. My closet has more room than ever. I make marinara sauce from scratch. This year’s Christmas tchotchkes can fit in one box. I began a collection of pure, first-edition books. I took a seat-of-the-pants trip to Europe on a whim and stayed with a cousin I’d never met. Wonders never cease, but I’m also content to fall back into my normal patterns and embrace the gal I am. There is no beating myself up. I’m not that gal anymore.