On this glorious (uneventful) day that is the fourth,
I ask myself one question, and one question only:
what is the appeal?
Why, on a few socially-sanctioned days of the year, do we insist upon letting down all our usual guards against humiliation and accept our inner-most cheeseballs and tactless 3rd grade teachers for the sake of a single date?
Why, on October 31st, December 25th, December 31st, February 14th, March 17th, and, yes folks, July 4th, does it suddenly become OK for us to admit that we indeed spent 3 hours searching for the perfect pair of obnoxiously-shaped sunglasses,
or that the effortlessly endearing color coordination between our socks and our shirt was not, in fact effortless? Why is it OK in a way that it's not for say, the other 359 days of the long, long calendar year?
And what is that urge to wear the same kitschy earrings you abhorred as a child that suddenly emerges around age 22?? And why do we still dress like skanks on Halloween despite our big kid jobs and (not at all) adult relationships?
Theory #1: Most of us were not athletic.
the community of poorly dressed pedestrians,
is our substitute team.
Theory #2: 359 days of pretending that we don't care about what we wear is TIRING (said in 3 syllables).
I don't know about you, but after just a DAY of pretending that I'm cool, I'm pooped. So you can imagine what a relief it is to admit, even if for only a few times a year, that yes we did try, and yes we are proud.