An excerpt of my journal dated February 22nd, 2012.
" Some people wake up in utter panic from dreams where:a)they are being chased b) jump into an abyss or c) see themselves about to die in any way. Personally I, glorified fashion intern, woke up in panic today because I did not plan my outfit last night. This being the last week of market month,all my fun clothes lie in a heap in my dry cleaning basket.Only dowdy, dull law firm clothes from the old days were left for me to wear. I came out of the shower wrapped in my beloved Hilasal towels that I make my mother send me from time to time and survey the possibilities. I decided on a sleveeless black and white Roberto Verino sheath, belted with a black skinny belt. I felt very pleased with my B list duds.Then I realized in dismay that the tights I could pair this up with were dirty and I'd no time to wash and dry them. I looked in the bag where I keep my hosiery, I saw purple tights (what am I , four?), and red , camel and black fishnetty ones. I decided the black ones are the only choice and put them on, at least today was a fifty degree day so I could survive in non wool. I finished the look off with a pair of black booties and a leather jacket instead of a cardigan. (What Would Kate Moss do?) Matt told me I looked beautiful when he dropped me off at the station and I believed him, and smugly thought I accidentally hit the outfit jackpot. That is, until I realized today is Ash Wednesday and I had to go to Saint Patrick's Cathedral for mass. I have to admit that the outfit that made me proud and smug before made me ashamed now. My fishnet leather combo seemed painfully inappropriate for church, but I resolutely walked in thinking to myself that Jesus had a)once defended a prostitute or an adultress or something b) been a fisherman himself so the nets could not be that big of a deal.
With my i pod buds draped around my neck I approached the line to get the cross put on my forehead, when it was done I went back to my pew to pray. Or at least with an intention to pray.Instead I started to wonder about Jesus.About how God sacrificed his son for such a callous race.I thought of my nephews back at home, about how much they mean to my sister and whether or not she would ever allow any of them to suffer for any purpose, to be crucified and humiliated by the likes of us. And for the sake of the likes of us. This thought brought tears to my eyes that no amount of religion classes, first communion prep sessions, or homilies had been able to before. I know catholics are made fun of because guilt is perceived as the cornerstone of our religion but the truth is, how can you not feel bad when you have let down someone who sacrificed their child for you?
I walked out of church towards work, passing Bergdorf Goodman on the way. I was aware of the curious glances. I guess it isn't every day that you see a leather clad, fishnetted, big haired girl with a cross on her forehead.I didn't care.I was proud of it, I walked taller because of it, because it meant that if I can get it, if a person like me, a former certified hellraiser, can understand the purpose of Easter, there is hope. That Jesus's sacrifice was not completely in vain.
The cross had an unanticipated effect on me, I don't know if it was the fact that it is there for the world to see and what you do reflects on your faith, or if feeling spiritual can really change you, but I have never been nicer than I was today. I was excessively friendly and kind. I treated everyone I met with respect and genuine niceness, not just cold politeness. I held doors open for strangers instead of letting them figure out how to carry their bosses lunch and cappuccinos, and open the door with no free hands. I volunteered to help out with even the most mindless of tasks, even if it wasn't my responsibility. I swear it was the cross on my forehead, somehow compelling me to put my best foot forward all day. And then I thought, what if it was there everyday. What if we all had something that compelled us to be nicer to each other... to act more, I don't know, human.
It is now then end of the day and with all the playing dress up, running around the showroom and the activity of my sebaceaous glands my cross is gone.It makes me a little sad, I really liked who I was with it."
