The richness of a ribbon

Jewels in the sun

When I was a child we had little money so instead of having a new outfit every season we had a new hair ribbon … who didn’t?

Hair brushed neatly & tied with a bow! Me in the middle. 

The very thought of it being tied in my hair evokes memories of parties and happy times.  But some time later they were evicted from my wardrobe when a fringe and kiss curls became the rage.

But recently, browsing through a Grazia magazine I came across a picture of the ‘Desperately seeking Susan’ Madonna of the early 1980s. The sight took my breath away. In seconds I was scrabbling in my scarf drawer.

Madonna-seeking-Susan

It was as if a cork had exploded from a bottle … With a scarf tied in my hair and some bling in my ears I was on a roll.  It was the most liberating thing I had done in years.

However,  going to work feeling as if I was Madonna – and I did –  was another kettle of fish, but I was determined, if not a little anxious.  Walking into the office that Monday morning was for me like a bride walking into church with her frock tucked in her knickers.  The stony silence, averted eyes and the almost audible ‘crazy woman, she has really done it this time.   Maybe this time I had gone too far!

Undeterred, I have carried on and even bought some more outrageous ribbons. I still get quizzical glances, but mostly the looks are favourable with comments like ‘I wish I had the nerve to do that!’

Recently, some strangers in local restaurant called me over; they were trying to work out who I looked like, with tongue firmly in my cheek I ventured ‘Madonna’ kindly they laugh ‘some hopes, no,no, its Paula Yates’ WOW, not’s so bad eh?

The feeling that the bow bestows is almost beyond compare; I have this childlike sense of well being.