Things I Vacuumed Today

A few weeks ago one of my blog-reading friends asked if I had vacuumed anything interesting lately. When I responded with an actual answer of a few things that I had vacuumed, we agreed that maybe I should just give up the blog and change to a twitter account listing weird things I cleaned at work. To us, this seemed hilarious.

What do you think, readers? Would you like to get fascinating life updates from me like:

-Vacuumed wooden beer crate

-Washed Hypercolor T-shirt

-Used cotton ball to clean orange helmet

-Used Q-tip to clean shot glass

-Stuffed smelly wedding dress into fume hood

I love my job, but it often strikes me as a really weird gig. When I try to explain what I do, the first question people usually ask is, "Ok, so what do you actually do all day?" And then I have to respond with something like, "Well today I tenderly washed a novelty T-shirt from the 1990s in a bath of water and gentle surfactant."

Clara's Nightmare

When I moved back to Seattle, I wondered how it would effect the way I dress. I had started dressing up more in New York, and I kind of wanted to keep that going. But Seattle is such a casual city I wondered if I wouldn't start just throwing on my awkward jeans and saggy T-shirts and not care. But I'm very proud to report that I've been consistently dressing up for work. Most days it is skirts and dresses, and often heels to complete the look. I knew I had done well when one of my co-workers noticed that I was wearing pants one day (don't worry, they were nice pants) and asked if it was the first time since I started my job. I was able to tell her confidently that it was actually the third.

So the other night I had a dream that confirmed just how attentive I've become to what I wear. In the dream I was at work, going about my regular day. There were lots of mirrors at work (much like my new apartment) and every time I passed one I was confronted by the fact that I was wearing a really hideous outfit. I had on a white turtleneck with some sort of Christmas pattern on it and a pair of giant mom jeans. The whole thing was very unflattering and lumpy and I basically looked like Jerri Blank from Strangers with Candy (pictured above). I may have had the same haircut too. Every time I saw myself in the mirror I was like, "Why am I wearing this? Why did I stop caring? If only I could go home and change!" The worst part of it was that no one commented. Horror of horrors, NO ONE WAS SURPRISED TO SE ME LOOKING THIS WAY.

When I woke up I was relieved it was just a dream and took extra care that day in picking out my clothes. But it begs the question- what kind of person have I become? What does this say about me that I'm having nightmares about not wearing a good outfit? I'm basically a ditz stereotype from a teen movie.

But then again, I'm a fashion historian! I have to keep up appearances. This week the sketch artist for the Seattle Times got a tour of MOHAI and I doubt he would have drawn me if I wasn't so fabulous. You have to check out this awesome little article about the museum move. He even captured my pink tights!