Counter Action: Green pasta salad

It’s one of the hottest days of the year so far here, although you wouldn’t know it to look at my neighbours. I don’t think a day has gone by since Memorial Day that they didn’t have the grill fired up outside. Apparently sweat is weakness leaving the body.

As long as this heat wave lasts, I’m staying as far away from heat sources as I can. No pizza or soup or homemade baked goods for this girl. Even snuggling with my roommate’s cats is a bit much.

This salad definitely fits the summer bill of fare, though. I don’t know what it is about the snap of raw vegetables that feels cooler than cooked ones, but this dish has its fair share of crunch with broccoli, carrots, and bell peppers. Have some fresh asparagus spears you need to use up? Throw them in too. Sugar snap peas? Why not. Cooked chilled edamame? Have at it. This is your salad, my friends.

Green pasta salad

(based on Best Food Cloud’s ranch pasta salad)

Ingredients:

  • 1 lb. rotini
  • 2 heads broccoli
  • 4 carrots
  • 2 green bell peppers
  • 6 oz. plain Greek yogurt
  • 1/3 c. milk
  • 1 pkt. ranch dressing mix

Directions:

  1. Cook rotini until al dente. Drain and rinse with cold water until cool.
  2. Dice broccoli, carrots, and bell peppers into bite-sized pieces.
  3. In separate bowl, combine yogurt, milk, and ranch dressing mix until smooth. (Based on how much whey is in your Greek yogurt, feel free to add a tablespoon or two of flour to thicken the dressing. If you like your salad extra flavorful, add up to 1 tsp. onion powder and 2 tsp. dried parsley.)
  4. Combine rotini, veggies, and dressing. Toss to coat.
Advertisements

No Carb Left Behind: episode 1

20150603_125248

First off, I should admit that I did not come up with this tour name myself; it’s what Liz’s friend calls her Italy trip in Eat Pray Love. Unlike her, I do not have ready access to fried squash blossoms and homemade tiramisu and roasted endive and penne ai quattro formaggi and pizza that incurs an existential crisis.

Perhaps it’s just as well.

However, we do have some pretty awesome street food, delis, and bakeries here in Seattle, and it’s my sad duty to revisit my favourites in the process of moving away. It’s not as impressive as Cher’s farewell tour, I know. But at least I’m only planning one.

My first stop was Michou Deli, in the Pike Place Market. It has a wide range of sandwiches and salads, with a respectable collection of pastas, soups, and pastries as well. My favourite sandwich, the one you see above, is the Tuscan chicken, with chicken, tomato, artichokes, greens, mozzarella, and pesto. This time I got a side of kale–wild rice salad to go with it. Such a good lunch — and super affordable, too; my sandwich–salad combo was under $7.

20150603_180910

And while I was at Pike Place, of course, I had to stop at Three Girls Bakery (no official website, but here’s their Yelp listing) to pick up a pastry. I decided on a poppyseed rugelach in the end, but they also have fantastic palmiers, croissants, brownies, and cookies. They’re reasonably priced, too (I paid $2 for this rugelach, and the guy threw in a broken one for free), so if you decide that the line at Piroshky Piroshky is too long, just walk a block further and get your pastry fix at Three Girls.

Also, a word about visiting Pike Place Market: I highly recommend going there early. Le Panier opens at 6:30 a.m. and Lowell’s at 7 a.m., so by the time you finish breakfast, many of the produce, flower, and seafood vendors will have set up their wares, and you’ll be able to stroll the market without the crowds. It’s a much more relaxed, personal, and efficient way to experience the market. (If you’re there for the crafts vendors, you’ll probably have to wait until 10 a.m. But that’s all the more time to mooch around the nearby coffee shops, right?)

Stay tuned for the next installment … but in the meantime, I want to know: What’s the best sandwich in your hometown?

Your unasked questions answered

First of all, my sincerest apologies to all the commenters, gossip columnists, and TV crews who have been wondering where I was for the past four months. Sorry for the panic — I know, it was like the Marie Celeste all over again, but with more conspiracy theories. It’s okay. I’m back now.

(And by “panicked fanbase”, I mean the one friend to whom I casually mentioned my absence, to which she replied, “Oh yeah, you have a blog.”)

In a nutshell: I’ve been finishing my master’s degree.

There's been serious talk of wearing wizards' caps to graduation. I'll keep you posted.

There’s been serious talk of wearing wizards’ caps to graduation. I’ll keep you posted.

“What’s your degree in?”

There’s more than one reason why I haven’t said before. First, there’s the whole stranger-danger thing. I sometimes play a game (benevolently, I swear) where I read strangers’ blogs and see how quickly I can identify what city they live in. Sometimes they’re super open about it. Sometimes they’re successfully secretive. Most often, they don’t want to say outright, but it’s super easy to find out based on the businesses and events they mention. Because I’m in a field that doesn’t have many masters’ programs in the U.S., mentioning my discipline in conjunction with the other events I’ve described would have been about as smart as posting a daily selfie with the Eiffel Tower and expecting my location to remain anonymous.

“Loving my new place in London! #privacyplease”

The other reason is that my field has a certain amount of stigma. About fifty percent of the time, when I tell people what I’m studying, they scrunch up their noses and say, “You have to have a degree to do that?” (I like to respond with a breezy “No, I just had a spare $45,000 lying around, and Joss said it wasn’t enough to reboot Firefly.”) Another thirty percent of the time, they’ll say, “Really? Where are you going to find a job in that?”, as though they expect me to have a road-to-Damascus moment and switch to, say, bioengineering on the spot.

But neither of these reasons are particularly valid anymore, because (a) I’m moving soon because (b) I just got a full-time job in my field. It can be done, friends.

So to answer your question: I’m a librarian.

It was surprisingly difficult to find a free stock photo of a stereotypical librarian. This fills me with hope.

It was surprisingly difficult to find a free stock photo of a stereotypical librarian. This fills me with hope.

“So, what’s new in your life?”

Well, I just got a full-time job in my field. Did I mention that? Please don’t hate me. It does mean I have to get to move to the Deep South in the depths of summer. So I guess I’m an adult now? Is this what adults do? Does it mean I have to stop sleeping with a nightlight?

nightlights-421429_1280

This is definitely not my nightlight. That mouse is far too scary.

In other news, getting a job before graduation means that all motivation evaporates. Right now I’m in the throes of writing MY LAST PAPER EVER (please don’t hate me) and it is not going well. For comparison, I have also written papers on canine imagery in Renaissance drama, the Protestant poetic of George Herbert, and medieval numerology, all of which were riveting season finales compared to this last barrier between me and gainful employment.

Also, I’ve been trying to purchase ebooks for the small library I manage, which is obnoxiously difficult and expensive, and catalog other ebooks with open-source software that was apparently coded in an era when ebooks were naught but a twinkle in Vannevar Bush’s eye. So the next time I hear someone say, “I don’t know why my library doesn’t have more ebooks; they’re just so much easier to buy and use,” I am going to stalk them until they start making risotto, and then I am going to cry into it, and it will be too salty and their dinner party will be ruined. Ha.

bad guy

“Speaking of cooking, can you make a roux with EVOO instead of butter?”

As I discovered yesterday while making the Pioneer Woman’s cauliflower soup, yes, you can, but it will have a pale green tinge that is not for the faint of heart. Also, you will need a heck of a lot of salt.

“What’s up next for IWtSLtY?”

I have every intention of returning to a regular posting schedule, but let’s be honest, I also have every intention of someday learning how to manage my hair, and that’s not working out so well.

However! I’m currently mapping out a No Carb Left Behind farewell tour of my home city, which I can bring you along on, now that it doesn’t matter if you know where I live. So stay tuned for that.

Finally, looking farther ahead: What are your thoughts on D.A. Days, our celebration of all things Potteresque? Is it worth a repeat? Would you like to see another fandom highlighted this year?

Until (an ideally very soon) next time,

~ Sonya

nepal-419_640

[traditional Yak of Goodwill]

———

Image credits: Great Hall gif from Warner Brothers via Tumblr, I claim no ownership of it whatsoever, please don’t shut down my blog; door by stux on Pixabay; librarian via Bill Branson on Wikimedia Commons; nightlight from twaita2012 on Pixabay; TH gif from MTV via rebloggy, again, no rights owned here, please don’t sue; yak from Simon on Pixabay.

Counter Action: Sweet potato soup with goat cheese biscuits

DSCF4223

Well, this is embarrassing.

Sorry about the month of silence. Let’s turn it into a game. I was:

a) in a coma after I heroically foiled a plot to blackmail the Duchess of Winnipeg;

b) abducted by space pirates and pressed into service on a mission to seize control of the galaxy’s last supply of pyridium;

c) super busy with the pre-Oscars press junket (you know how it goes); or

d) in grad school.

If you guessed C, you are … sadly mistaken. I weep with you. It’s D. But as my cohort’s Facebook page just reminded me, we’re in school for just 79 more weekdays! And then we’re done with school forever!

Or, you know, until our mid-life crises hit and we start thinking longingly of astrophysics.

centaurus-a-11190_1280

Hey there, Centaurus A. I love it when you talk density to me.

In the meantime, it’s been a fun ride. Here’s a snippet of what’s been on my mind:

  • Emotion-recognition technology: The future is here, and somehow it’s a lot creepier and a lot less jetpack-y than I was counting on.
  • Righteous trolling: How being right can easily overtake recognizing someone’s humanity.
  • #FITIN15: Jessica Smith might be my favourite YouTube workout leader — she’s always so positive, and she knows how to strike a balance between meeting people where they’re at and encouraging them to push themselves. Right now she’s doing a series called #FITIN15, which is a bunch of 15-minute workouts. Pair a cardio one with a flexibility or strength one, and it’s a great start to any day.
  • Madame Tussaud: My current read. I’m only a quarter of the way through, but so far I’m loving the balance between the strong, complex protagonist and her turbulent, richly detailed setting.
  • This soup-and-biscuit pairing. It’s been on my cooking bucket list for ages, but I didn’t have an excuse to make it until last week when a friend gave me some chevre. The soup is velvety smooth, with a mellow flavour that pairs well with the sharp tang of the goat cheese on top and in the biscuits. Next time I make it, I might roast the sweet potatoes before adding them to the soup, to deepen the flavour. For a special occasion, I might even caramelize the onions. But for an everyday winter soup, it works just fine as is.

DSCF4213

Sweet potato soup with goat cheese biscuits

(From the inimitable Joy the Baker)

Ingredients:

Soup

  • 2 T. olive oil
  • 1 yellow onion, diced
  • 1 garlic clove, minced
  • 2-1/2 lbs. (between 5 and 7) sweet potatoes, cut into chunks
  • 1 T. chopped fresh ginger (or 1 tsp. dried)
  • 1 tsp. cumin
  • 1/2 tsp. coriander
  • 1/4 tsp. cardamom
  • 1/4 tsp. turmeric
  • pinch of red pepper flakes
  • 8 c. liquid (I used 4 c. broth and 4 c. water)
  • salt and pepper to taste
  • goat cheese to garnish

Biscuits

  • 2 c. flour
  • 3 tsp. baking powder
  • 1-1/2 tsp. salt
  • 4 T. cold butter
  • 4 T. goat cheese
  • 1 c. buttermilk

Directions:

  1. Over medium heat, warm oil in large stockpot. Add onion and cook 3–5 minutes or until soft.
  2. Add garlic, sweet potato, and seasonings. Stir to combine and cook 5–7 minutes.
  3. Add broth and raise heat to high. Simmer 15–20 minutes or until potatoes are soft.
  4. In batches, liquify soup in blender. Return to stovetop and heat on low until ready to serve, garnished with goat cheese.
  5. For biscuits, combine flour, baking powder, and salt in medium bowl.
  6. Cut in butter and crumbled goat cheese until mixture resembles small clumps.
  7. Mix in buttermilk thoroughly. Drop onto baking parchment in spoonfuls. Bake at 425°F for 12–15 minutes, or until golden brown.

———

Image credit: Galaxy from WikiImages on Pixabay.

Why grammar matters.

I just saw this on my Facebook feed and had to share it with my fellow grammar nuts.

Gowdy

When I first read it, I thought the verb “stopping” applied to all the items in the series. Hence:

Trey Gowdy is for 

  1. stopping corruption
  2. stopping cronyism
  3. stopping lying to America
  4. stopping restoring the USA back to a country with integrity

Wait, what?

I must have read that wrong. I guess “stopping” only applies to the first item in the series. So Trey Gowdy is for

  1. stopping corruption
  2. cronyism
  3. lying to America
  4. restoring the USA back to a country with integrity

That’s even worse. I’m so confused. Help me, Rhonda.

 

KUOW: “‘Is There a Problem?’ That Scary Brown Man and White Privilege”

shadow-19354_1280

Awhile back, I published a response to the #YesAllWomen movement. I just went back and re-read it, and this line jumped out at me:

So what can men do? […] They can interact with women more mindfully, especially in risky situations like at night and in enclosed spaces. […] I’ve heard from other men who used to feel a little hurt when they saw solo women eyeing them suspiciously or crossing the street to avoid them. Now that they’ve caught a glimpse of the degree of caution we’ve been raised to cultivate, they’re more understanding of these actions.

Then I found this article on KUOW: “‘Is There a Problem?’ That Scary Brown Man and White Privilege.” While I’m still all for men interacting mindfully with women, Gyasi Ross’s story is a gutwrenching example of how often authority figures assume that in any tense situation, it’s the man of color who’s at fault: “A huge Native guy in camouflage was arguing with a clean-cut white couple (and a white captain). Three guesses who started that one. That’s privilege.”

In case you don’t have time to read the article, the confrontation was started by the white woman — the type of move that Jessica Valenti addressed in the wake of George Zimmerman’s acquittal: “Yes, all white women — all of us — are taught to fear men of color. We need to own that truth, own that shameful fear. Most importantly, we need to name it for what it is: deeply held and constantly enforced racism.”

I hadn’t really considered either Ross’s or Valenti’s points when I wrote my response, but they’re right — race plays a part in my snap judgments about who I consider “safe” to walk past on a dark street. It isn’t my only consideration, but it is a consideration. And as Gyasi Ross points out, that’s a problem, not least because skinny unarmed girls aren’t the only ones using race as a metric for threat assessment.

By his own admission, Ross got off easy. But what about the people who haven’t? Later in my article, I said this (emphasis added):

Men, again, we love you. We’re not asking you to wear only pastels, or walk around with your hands up, or get a women’s studies degree.

That was published on May 29, 2014. Michael Brown was still alive at that point. So were Tamir Rice, and Eric Garner, and Rumain Brisbon, and Akai Gurley, and Kajieme Powell, and Ezell Ford, and Dante Parker, and John Crawford III. Within seven months, all of them would be victims of tragic snap judgments.

Early in his story, Ross said: “I knew the drill — I’ve been trained since I was a kid: ‘You’re a big brown guy — don’t be too scary. Don’t be too big. Don’t be too brown.’ We’re taught these things for our own safety and to get along.”

At this point I wanted to jump on a bus and find him and give him a big hug. Because as I discussed in my post, we women know the drill. We’ve been trained since we were kids: “Don’t show too much skin. Don’t walk provocatively. Don’t travel alone.” Women of color have additional “rules” they’ve been taught. Transgender people have others. Like Ross, we’ve been taught these things for our own safety, and no matter how effective they are at keeping us safe, it still stings that we have to compensate for other people’s assumptions and prejudices.

(And speaking as a straight cis white middle-class able-bodied young person, my knowledge of prejudice is limited to what I experience as quite a sheltered female — in short, not much.)

flea-63043_1280

My knowledge of oppression: an analogy.

So for my original question (“What can men do?”), my answer hasn’t changed. But to pose a new question to this matter of race and class and tragic snap judgments, “What can we all do?”

I’m still trying to find the answer, myself. But for starters, I recommend Franchesca Ramsey’s video “5 Tips for Being an Ally.”

If you could forget about one of the “rules” you’ve been given for your demographic, what would it be?

What are your must-read/must-watch resources for people who want to be better allies?

———-

Image credit: Shadow from PublicDomainPictures, flea from WikiImages on Pixabay.

Book Chatter: Small-town books

ferndale-403123_1280

I’ll be the first to admit that cities have their charms, in the form of restaurants, public transit, and festivals. And major sports franchises. And the knowledge that if a major musician or art exhibit is going on tour, you probably won’t have to drive far to see it. Also, not having to explain to people that you’re “from X. You know, near Y. Like if you head south from Z, it’s about two hours away. No, that’s actually Q, but it’s pretty close to X.”

But if you grew up in small towns like I did, there are certain things you just can’t get in cities. Like stars, and the sound of wheat rustling in the breeze, and the way sunlight filters through the walls of an old barn and makes the hay dust dance.

farmhouse-117285_1280

Pretend you’re here. Now take a deep breath. Nothing else like it, is there?

 

If you’re missing your hometown today, try one of these books set in a small town — and feel free to chime in with other favourites I’ve missed. Let’s feel the small-town love!

jhil

We love the oldies-but-goodies here. If you haven’t read Katherine Paterson’s classic Jacob Have I Loved lately, give it another go — you might be surprised by how much you identify with the protagonist, especially towards the end. If you’ve never read it, you’re in for a treat. It’s the story of Sara Louise Bradshaw, the dark older twin of bubbly blonde Caroline. Everyone on tiny Rass Island loves Caroline and predicts great things for her, but they all seem to take Sara for granted. Rambling through the years of WWII and beyond, Jacob Have I Loved examines belonging and identity with a tenderness I’ve yet to see elsewhere.

tgss

If you liked Jacob Have I Loved, try Tiffany Baker’s The Gilly Salt Sisters, with its sharper edges and darker tone. The Gilly women have always run the salt ponds on the outskirts of Prospect, Massachusetts, but at a price: The salt hates men, and does everything it can to drive them off. Some would say that Jo, the elder Gilly sister, has become mostly salt as well, since she’s a gaunt loner (and, some say, a witch). Her bubbly sister Claire thought she escaped the salt years ago when she married wealthy Whit Turner … but then she’s forced back to the failing salt farm with her husband’s pregnant mistress in tow. Together the three women have to decide: Will they let the salt force them farther apart or bind them together in a common cause?

ktm

Lastly, there’s Sarah Dessen’s Keeping the Moon, which follows 15-year-old Colie Sparks’ summer with her aunt while her fitness-guru mother goes on tour. As she hears reports of her mother’s international success, newly thin Colie can’t help but think of the days when the two of them would eat Hostess donuts and pork rinds as they traveled from town to town in search of opportunity. In the broken, cluttered rooms of her aunt’s home, Colie realizes that she’s using each salad as a shield, the same way she once used her spare tire. It takes a job at the local diner, two crazy coworkers, her unruffled aunt, and the bizarre artist downstairs to convince Colie that she can finally put down her shields and embrace a vulnerable life.

What’s your favourite book set in a small town? (And what’s your favourite memory of a small town?)

———

Photo credits:

Ferndale photo from tpsdave on Pixabay.

Barn photo from unicorns on Pixabay.

Book covers from Better World Books: Jacob Have I Loved, The Gilly Salt Sisters, and Keeping the Moon.

Counter Action: Broccoli–cheese soup

DSCF4159

As I look at my post calendar, I’m seeing a theme.

In November, there was roasted garlic soup and spicy white bean stew. Today there’s going to be this broccoli–cheese soup. And in the not-so-distant future, there’s going to be French lentil soup and Tuscan bean soup and onion soup.

We’re big on soup here. I hope that’s okay.

Other things I’m big on, at least this week:

  • Jonathan Coulton’s song “Ikea.” It’s everything you ever wanted in a song about everyone’s favourite elegantly furnished maze.
  • A Girl of the Limberlost, by Gene Stratton Porter. Sure, it was published in 1909, but its themes of familial loyalty, independence, and staying true to oneself are as pertinent as they ever were. If you haven’t read it since you were a kid, try giving it another shot — I was amazed by the new nuances I caught this time around.
  • Bath & Body Works’ Purple Amethyst lotion. Here’s how the pros describe the scent: “A hypnotic blend of Italian bergamot, rare camellias & exotic sandalwood.” Here’s my analysis: “Strong on the unicorn tears, with top notes of summer moonlight and the Jazz Age and a faint afternote of Nicholas Sparks.” Bottom line: It smells good.
  • Winterspell“, by Two Steps from Hell. Would you find tasks easier to accomplish in this dark, cold month if they were accompanied by a sweeping dramatic score? Look no further: Two Steps from Hell has your back. (Other favourites: “Spirit of Moravia“, “Cassandra“, and “Men of Honor Part II“.)
  • The 2013 version of The Great GatsbyThis is preemptive praise — I haven’t actually seen it yet; it’s just been sitting in my “borrowed items” stack for longer than I care to admit. But given the reviews, I fully expect to enjoy it when I sit down to it tonight with my bowl of soup.

DSCF4148

Broccoli–cheese soup

(adapted from Peas and Crayons’ recipe)

Ingredients:

  • 2 T. olive oil
  • 1 onion, diced
  • 3 carrots, diced finely
  • 2 c. broccoli flowerets, diced finely
  • 3 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1/8 tsp. allspice
  • 1/8 tsp. nutmeg
  • 1/8 tsp. dried basil
  • 1/8 tsp. cayenne pepper
  • 1/8 tsp. black pepper
  • 1/8 tsp. salt
  • 1 bay leaf
  • 4 c. vegetable broth
  • 4 c. water
  • 3 T. butter
  • 3 T. flour
  • 1-1/2 c. milk
  • 1 c. grated cheddar cheese

Directions:

  1. Warm oil in large stockpot over medium heat. Add onion. Cook 2 minutes.
  2. Add carrot and broccoli. Cook 3 minutes.
  3. Add garlic, spices, and salt. Stir to combine and cook 2 minutes longer.
  4. Add bay leaf, broth, and water. Increase heat and cover pot. Simmer for 20 minutes, or until vegetables are tender.
  5. In separate saucepan over medium heat, melt butter and stir in flour to form a thick paste. Add milk and whisk until smooth. Continue to heat and stir until mixture has thickened.
  6. Add cheese to saucepan and stir until melted and incorporated.
  7. Ladle some broth into cheese mixture and stir. Gradually add more hot broth, stirring between each addition, until saucepan is full and cheese sauce’s temperature is similar to stockpot’s temperature.
  8. Pour cheese sauce into stockpot and stir to combine. Serve with green salad and crusty bread. Garnish with grated cheese, crackers, or fresh parsley if desired.

 

The New Statesman: “If you believe trans lives matter, don’t share Leelah Alcorn’s suicide note on social media.”

256px-A_bit_of_controversy_surrounding_the_transgender_flag_san_francisco_(2012)_(8206733386)

By now we’ve all heard about Leelah Alcorn, the transgender teen whose suicide note on Tumblr went viral. Tragically, the story of an LGBTQQIAA teen’s suicide is not an uncommon sight in the media … but are those stories being handled in the best possible way? Sarah Ditum tackles this issue with sensitivity and grace at The New Statesman. If you have a couple of minutes, I highly recommend it — and if you have a few minutes beyond that, check out Samaritans’ suggestions and WHO’s guidelines for covering and sharing these stories.

In a perfect world, of course, we wouldn’t have any suicides to report. But since we do, shouldn’t we try to do it responsibly?

———

Photo credit: By torbakhopper [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons.

If Carhartt sold lingerie

jackets-428622_1280

Over Christmas, I stayed at my parents’ house for a few days with my sister and her fiancé. Since I hadn’t seen my sister in a year, it was great to catch up with her and have some good sisterly bonding time.

Historically, there haven’t been a lot of topics we can bond over. She takes pains over her appearance; I prefer a style I call Shabby Cheap. She’ll wake up on a Friday, remember she has a marathon that Sunday, and nail it, powered by kale and quinoa; I’d rather puff and pant through three miles and then reward myself with a cinnamon roll.

runner-579327_1280

It’s a beautiful moment, when I see that cinnamon roll. I hear angels singing the Chariots of Fire theme.

 

But lately, we’ve been finding more things we have in common. For example, buying lingerie. Not for ourselves. Oh gosh. No. Worse: for other people. People we know.

Our friends keep getting married, see, and among the many other arcane rituals of matrimony, there is the traditional Giving of Fancy Underwear. As my sister was in charge of planning a lingerie party over Christmas break, and I was in the throes of selecting some lingerie for another friend, there was a certain amount of underwear-themed hysteria in the house (much to the men’s chagrin).

Because here’s the catch with lingerie shopping: With every other gift you buy in your lifetime, you’re supposed to take great pains with selecting it. You’re meant to wander the aisles at length, considering each option carefully and trying to guess whether the recipient would like it.

But with lingerie, that is patently not the case. Call me a prude, but I don’t particularly enjoy dwelling at length on my friends’ underwear preferences. So do I just go for a style I’d like to wear? What if that’s too racy or too conservative? Which side is better to err on?

(Discuss.)

linen-542866_1280

One of these days I’m going to show up with a pile of bedsheets and be like, “What? ‘Lingerie’ is French for ‘linen’.”

 

Fortunately, my father was able to keep a sense of humour throughout this process. Some of his remarks made me realize how unbalanced the lingerie market is. Why do Victoria’s Secret and Frederick’s of Hollywood get all the fun? Carhartt should get in on this — there’s a real niche for fireproof lingerie, I’m sure. And what about Nike? No-nonsense, no frills, aerodynamic. You could pick up some Hollister selections if you didn’t mind not seeing what you were buying before you took it home, or a 48-pack of thongs from Costco if you were feeling cost-efficient. And really, what woman wouldn’t line up for four hours to get their hands on the sleek silhouette of an Apple babydoll?

I just picked up my selection today, from Target. I was squirming a bit at first, but then I told myself, “This friendship is worth the awkwardness, so woman up and get in there,” and then there turned out to be a sale, which I always enjoy. By the time I was finished, I was able to walk right up to the male cashier and put the heap of lacy underwear on the counter without a qualm.

That’s the power of lingerie, I’m thinking: confidence, poise, the realization that you’re stronger than you think and bigger than your circumstances. Maybe there’s a little of the Carhartt spirit there after all.

———

Photo credits: Coats by jarmoluk, runner by skeeze, linen by stevepb on Pixabay.