It was to be a quick dash into the grocery store. I needed milk, fruit, and the usual run-out-of-too-soon items. I wasn’t overly concerned with my appearance because I was in “doing” mode, but I wasn’t exactly scruffy either. I had on black yoga pants, a black knit shirt, green and maroon Teva sandals, and a grey hoodie. My hair was pulled back into an intentionally messy bun and I had applied make-up to the most needy areas…which, for me, is most of my face. Just saying.
My agenda included walking Booker up the dirt road north of our house (and back!), feeding him, then heading into town to work out at our local Snap Fitness. It was on my return home that I stopped for the groceries. The wind had been gusting all morning and had not stopped as I did the mime walking against the wind routine into the store. As I crossed the threshold into the building I started to pull some of my loose hair behind my ears. An elderly gentleman came up behind me and said, “Bad hair day?” I suppose I could’ve been offended, but I wasn’t. He and his wife were stylishly dressed with nary a hair out of place. I’m not sure how they wind-proofed themselves, but more power to them. The gentleman had his arm placed protectively around his wife as he guided her towards the shopping carts. She seemed a bit fragile and teeterish. I realized that it had taken effort for them to dress nicely, even for a mundane trip to the grocery store, and they had my respect. I self-consciously smoothed more of my hair. He smiled… and then I smiled back. It was the best thing I wore all day.