The Homeless Look

Well today started like all others this week, on the wrong side of the bed. Not only have I gained five pounds since Friday ( how I don't know) but one of my articles had to be scratched because my editor doesn't understand the relevance. So today I decide to do what all women who just gained five pounds do, and I headed over to Blue Provence to grab some macaroons. Just the thought allows me to drive the twenty miles from my house! Anyway on way to get these delights, and my cell rings.

" Oh, Lisa where are you?" asks my publisher.
" On way to Palm Beach", say I.
" Oh good ( Notice all the ohs?), you need to go to Saks and Neimans to collect some looks.
" No problem, I say ( unaware of Fate's humour)

So off I go, driving toward South County Road. I park. Set out with my crisp white Calypso pants and my Celine blue Jean top ( that I adore). In I go and order the delectables, and just as I set out the door, (holding the brown paper bag, as a hobo does his wine), a sudden burst of rain from an unseen cloud ( hense: fate) plunges upon me, breaking the brown bag,
macaroons spilling out on the street. Standing there left still holding the top of the bag! I
stop and wonder if I should save those delicious French morsels!! But instead I run to my
car. My Jimmy Choo espadrilles decide to fail, and I slip upon the street collapsing into a
puddle along my car. My new Celine bag dripping its colour uonto my pants, all it's contents
strewn along the street. I don't know if anyone saw. I don't even care. I collect myself, my
bag, my stuff, and open my door. My New York Fashion Week umbrella, laughing at me.


I get into car. I want to go home, but I must complete my mission. I head for the stores. My
hair wet and stuck to my face ( I used a lot of hairspray that day), my white pants muddied,
and my shirt too wet to wear. Alas, I see an extra shirt in backseat. I change in car, well
it's pouring! This t- shirt might be from Target or Scoop, but it is not telling. I get out at
Saks and head into store. I glance in window and see streaks of mascara lining my face Darn!
On go my glasses and I race into ladies room. Somewhat better I exit. Ok now to get some
outfits for mag layout.

As I enter the designer section, all eyes are upon me. Starring in wonderment of how I could
possibly have the nerve to enter the store. I see a guy. He is immaculate. Impeccably
dressed.

"May I help you"? he says
"Yes I'm wondering if you can give me clothes for a shoot."I say
"A what? I'm sorry but who are you?
( I tell him)
"Really? ( then he tells me to find someone else)


I feel ashamed. Embarrassed. I want to scream, I'm not homeless! Then I think about how everyday people are judged. Judged without any knowledge of where they are from or what has happened in their lives. I'm lucky I'm not usually judged like this. Then I became angry but more empowered and I boldly went up to the salesman, now speaking to a woman. As I approach, their eyes searching me:


" oh, did you just come from the beach? She says ( a flicker in her eye)
" well, actually, let me tell you what happened.....

A Mother's Day

A Mother's day,
Is full of noise,
From cries of joy,to
Pouts from the boys,

A made up song,
Sung out of tune,
A scream so loud
You lift to the moon.

A delightful giggle
That brightens your day,
The curly hair bouncing
As she runs away.

The puppies barking,
The doorbell rings,
You imagine your life,
Without these things.

You sit and cry,
With your hands on your head,
The smoke alarm blaring,
You forgot the bread.

And then one day,
As you sit and rest,
You remember the day,
They lay at your breast.

The bandages heeled,
And your hugs helped too
Now they're off at school
And you're feeling blue.