static cling.

Keds and scrunchy socks were standard issue at age six, along with side ponytails and patterned turtlenecks. The piece de resistance* however were the leggings. I specifically remember a purple pair, complete with black elastic stirrups that went around the bottoms of my feet-you know, just incase things got a little crazy and they started to ride up.

This fabulous article of clothing has made a comeback, most sans stirrups much to my dismay. I hated them at first. Wearing them under a short dress was cute. And then somehow things got out of hand and dresses turned into tee-shirts. Then the hundreds of girls sporting them end up looking like they should be on a jazzercise video. yikkes.
So naturally I bought a pair. [See, I do this thing where I rebel against what's popular; like ipods and texting for instance. But eventually I end up wanting it and by that time I'm too late and there is something else that's "in". I'm crazy I know.]

It was going to be a fantastic day. A spring day that felt like summer. It doesn't get any better than that. A dress was in order. But the last time I anticipated a nice day and wore a dress I froze my butt off. Solution? Leggings. They were brown and I wore them under a peach polyester dress. You may be thinking, "Polyester? Really Jen?" but it's vintage with some hand embroidery so let it go okay. Well, I left the house, looking like a hippie according to my roommate, loving life.

Except for one problem. I had a serious case of static cling. The polyester was reuniting with the leggings apparently. It was terrible. It kept sticking to my legs, making it look like I was wearing wrinkly, peach shorts. I kept tugging on it, discreetly of course, only to have it suction right back to my thigh. After a couple blocks of this I firmly told myself, "Jen. It's not going away. Stop messing with it and leave it alone." Which worked.
For two seconds.
I became even more self-conscious as I started entering the business district. All of those giant mirrors created by office buildings and the business professionals all ironed and crisp on their way to their cubicle. Nightmarish. I continued to tug and pull and the static continued to win. I kept telling myself to just let it be, but my fingers were grabbing the skirt of their own accord.
I reached the blue bridge over the river and realized I had missed my whole walk. I hadn't noticed a thing. My precious walk, wasted, and on a beautiful day no less. All because of a little static cling. All because I was worried that I looked stupid. I was uncomfortable and annoyed at a piece of fabric. I probably missed out on something really epic in the twenty minutes I spent wrestling with my skirt.

So this got me thinking...what is the static cling in my life? What distracts me? What pulls me away from what's really beautiful? From what is true. noble. right. pure. lovely. admirable. What takes my attention away from what is excellent or praiseworthy? What's distracting me from "such things"?

I know I've got more than a few, and if I had to guess you've got a peach dress clinging to your leggings too. I want to get rid of mine. I want to enjoy the walk and I don't want something as silly as a little static cling get in the way.

*[excuse my lack of proper accent usage]