Uniforms

I'm 13 years into this blog, and I don't know what I want to be.

Do I want to be the grownup in a black dress and heels, successfully walking into meetings with the right lipstick?

Or do I want to be the artist girl with the low bun and pulp-splattered black t-shirt and leggings, flip-flops and chipped nail polish?

Sometimes I want to be the fitness girl. Colourful sports bra and stretchy pants, proud of remembering my HIIT and PIIT.

But other times I want to be the slow girl dreaming through bookstores in long layers, buying antiques, selling drawings. Fitness wear is so not appropriate for the hippie-hearted.

Or do I want to be the strong woman in covered shoes and pedal-pushers, climbing down gravel dunes and across train tracks to the slums?

I can't decide, for I am all of these things. It would be convenient to be just one of them. More streamlined for easier shopping. A more thematic Instagram feed. But it doesn't work that way. Maybe someday I will find a uniform that will take me into all of life. For now, I can be anyone I want to be.