I decided to wear a kimono and high heels to the party because I wanted people to see me in a kimono and high heels at the party.
I tried putting chopsticks from the kitchen drawer in my hair and it felt like it was overdoing things a bit, so I put them back. I even considered painting the chopsticks black because they were brown, and black would have suited my outfit better.
Yet the fact that I considered painting them at all caused me to be embarrassed at myself, so I decided to ditch accessories that were at one time used to stuff pad thai into someone’s face. Painted or not, you can’t change the reality of what chopsticks are or the main way that they’ve been used for, like, centuries. Eons, even. So let a chopstick be a chopstick, and my hair can be what it is, too.
I’ve fantasised for days about wearing this kimono and these shoes and tonight is the night. The shoes are high and patent and black and shiny, and the kimono is red and silky with sleeves like wings. I guess the sleeves are a part of a traditional style, or whatever. It’s just that my only association with them is that they’re like wings. I don’t know why they’re so wide, or if that has some kind of practical aspect to it, and, you know, who cares.
I’ve put a tight black spandex skirt underneath for modesty. Well, it’s a half-hearted gesture in the direction of modesty. I’m not wearing underwear of any kind because that would be ridiculous.
The people who are going to see this outfit and me in it are both known and unknown to me. I mean, I’ve been invited to this party. Like, I’m legitimately allowed to be there. It’s just that my self-image is in no way going to be constrained by knowing too many people in attendance. I won’t be readily identifiable to the majority of the crowd, so who and what I am can remain undefined, and expansive…
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