My Grandma was the coolest. Not just because she may have been a vampire. But because she never gave one little wink to what anyone ever thought of her. Boy, don't I wish I had inherited one mimi ounce of that... She must have gotten it all. Because I take every little thing personally. Every little tiny eentsy bitsy thing. Sigh!
Anyway, I inherited her wardrobe when she disappeared. (No one has ever found her body. Some people think she's still alive. Sure, I say, she is cooking Elvis pig brains for breakfast...) I could never and won't ever be caught wearing any of her little "get ups". Not even on Halloween. But the funny little thing is that on me, the closet, or anybody else, her clothes look very very bad but on her, it wasn't that they looked good, lollipops no, but somehow you almost didn't notice. Or care. If her hair was purple, or she was wearing orange polka dots, or her socks were different neon colors. Nobody ever looked at her funny. Or put her picture in one of those magazine fashion DON'Ts pages.
Some people are just like that, aren't they? So sure and clear about who they are that nobody questions or judges their choices. That's just it, isn't it? The giant bean of the matter. When you are sure and clear the rest of the little world follows flute. Kinky Balloo is like that. Some of the things she does and says not even Santa would put up with if it came from anybody else.
Where do you find that? What do you call it? Can you learn it? Buy it? Borrow it?
I want it. You got some I could have?
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