It Takes a Village (or at least my daughters)

I’ve decided that one of the strongest pieces lf evidence supporting the idea that God made us for community is that I seem incapable of shopping for clothes on my own.  

It takes a team of expert consultants (mostly my daughters and/or my mom) to dress me.  Now that makes for a bit of a challenge since one of us is in Guatemala, one in D.C. (23, and 25 yrs. old respectively) one in Chicago (my mom who is 78, but has been known to swap clothes with the 23-year-old), and me in Minneapolis (and I’m not telling you how old I am).

We’re spread out, but devoted to each other and committed to not having a candid photo of us show up in Glamour magazine with the headline “fashion don’ts”.

So we take pictures of ourselves in dressing rooms wherever we are shopping and text them to each other asking the others to weigh in and give advice. 

I’m not kidding.

Here’s a sample of a recent conversation:

MN:  What do you think of this (sending pic)

D.C. and Guat (simultaneously):  We’ve told you you are NOT allowed to wear animal prints!  No!  PUT IT BACK.  NOW!

However “Chicago” is not text savvy so she gets emails from our phones and responds by email too.  Unfortunately (or fortunately if you like an unusual game) it usually takes all three of the rest of us and a super detective decoder kit to figure out what she’s trying to communicate.

Here’s one from Chicago to Guatemala:

maggie honery-- these are the shies with me in then.  i was goint to senx

you a

pic of the shiies without me in them but tgrajpy ran out of memory.  hoooooooooope you

cam

tell a lllittle bout how they loopk.

Guat to D.C. and MN: Help.  Anyone have any idea what “tgrajpy” is?

And do you guys think she can pull of these shoes unless she’s going to be flamenco dancing?

The other day I texted my daughters that now back in tennis lessons for the first time in ten years I feel like the home-schooled kid going to public school for the first time and realizing I’m not dressed like the cool kids.

Maggie, ever supportive responded: “You’re a cool kid in my book.”

Now you may think the topics of our texts are ridiculous, but whether it’s about fashion or future plans isn’t this what we all crave in community?  

Someone to care. 

Someone to tell us the truth. 

Someone to encourage us.

Someone to reassure us that regardless of what the rest of the world thinks, we’re cool in their eyes.