Writer. Fashion.
Isn't that an oxymoron? I mean, at conferences maybe some of us could be viewed as semi-fashionable. I am not among that number. I'm far more fashion victim than fashion maven. Used to be you could count on me to dress up for conferences and events - to the point that it was clear I was trying too hard. But not now. A day job and very limited time to write makes my writing uniform pretty flexible. It's boat clothes, y'all. Boat clothes. Even if there isn't a boat at the moment. I'm still out here in cut off shorts, men's tee shirts and wearing men's Keens. I've found my gender-neutral happy place, and regardless of whether I'm out on the lanai writing or walking at the treadmill desk, this less than fashionable outfit stays relatively cool and dry. I never imagined I'd need to plan for fungal diseases like jungle rot (not a joke - my grandfather had it and never got rid of it) but staying cool and dry is a thing here. So every last goth bit of me has been packed away in a box for that time in the future when wearing black won't be a death-by-heat-stroke sentence.
The only thing that might change is whether or not I'm wearing the blue-light blocker migraine glasses. Or the Cefaly. Distinctly not fashionable, but so worth using to keep migraine at bay.
I'm afraid if there are author beauty contests, I'm going to have to let the cats stand in.
