Sweet Pea has been exposed to a little culture the last couple of days. Last night we went to a birthday party for a friend of my dad. Papa wanted to show off his grand baby so the two of us got to tag along. For the party, they rented out Copa and Eliza Gilkyson played. I'd never seen her before so that was fun. It was Sweet Pea's first show. She seemed to enjoy it. Since it was a little loud we didn't stay the whole time, but papa took her up front and danced with her for a few songs.
Today, we took her to the Blanton. I thought since she enjoys looking at the pictures in her books so much that she might enjoy looking at the art. I wasn't surprised when she smiled and cooed at many of the paintings. I was surprised at how much she enjoyed the European collection since I'd assumed that she would have preferred the primary colors in the modern section. She liked the babies and the cherubs.
At the museum I got to check out how the college girls were dressed and be reminded of how little I think about my apearance before I leave the house. I don't wear outfits anymore. I don't accessorize. Unless you count a sling as an accessory. My thought process is more like this: Does it fit? Is is clean? Can I nurse in it?
When I go shopping I am invisible. I'm not so slovenly to be suspected of shoplifting but clearly not cool enough to buy anything in your hip South First boutique. I know the difference because sometimes I shop with friends. I have seen the way store clerks perk up when certain friends of mine walk in. I don't know how they know but they're right. I'm not spending $250 for a pair of jeans. I'm going to Last Call if I ever feel the need to wear designer jeans again. But something tells me that since I will never again fit into the 7 jeans hiding in the back of my closet, my fancy pants days are over for awhile.
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