SHE'S GOT EVERYTHING DELIGHTFUL,
SHE'S GOT EVERYTHING I NEED (THAT'S TIE-DYED).
-THE GRATEFUL DEAD. AND ME.
I have several points to make - stay with me.
I realized a couple of years ago I can't wear colorful things. I gravitate towards the rainbow, but when I put on a bright happy thing, I feel the opposite. I feel like an imposter, or a real housewife on the reunion show (they never make the right call on that do they?). So I edited most of the color out of my wardrobe, and I stopped touching the pink items on the rack at Zara, chastising myself into a strict adherence to my new doctrine color absence.
I'm happier in my black hole - it's working. But then tie-dye shows back up like message on Facebook from your boyfriend freshman year of high school who always tasted like bongwater and had a camo bedspread : 'Hey girl, you look great! Remember me?'.' That metaphor doesn't really hold, because I don't want to talk to him, but I do want to wear tie-dye.
My best friend in elementary school was Allison Coble - she had shiny long brown hair, wore her socks perfectly slouched, her jeans expertly tight-rolled, and her house had everything. So many markers and stickers!, a playroom/gym upstairs were we practiced our 'routines' (we nailed them), a built-in bookcase full of swim team trophies, and tiny computer room we could shut ourselves in and flirt with boys in AOL chat rooms. Her mom always had a craft magically ready for us when we hopped off the schoolbus in the afternoon, and tie-dying was in the regular rotation. We designed dyed shirts for the entire swim team one summer (that was probably the only trophy I earned), and when we were really at the peak our of craft, you could catch us sporting our eponymous tees UNDER a Surfstyle windbreaker - and next-level, at the arcade in Myrtle Beach.
Additionally, I would be remiss not to point out that year at Furbish when we hand-dyed teepees. Things I have learned since then: why cultural heritage is important and appropriation sucks. And, selling hand-dyed one-of-a-kind teepees is not a profit generating business. But they were attractive. Another photo to reference, and I found this one featuring a different style of ridiculousness.
So here we are, on our tie-dye journey, and I'm wearing a pink sweatshirt and starting blog posts with Grateful Dead lyrics. I've rounded up a few eye-catching items that spark joy in my hyper color heart. You can find even more tie-dyed doo-dads over at Furbish, with our newest Edit.
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