“That shirt does not fit you.”
Okay, I had no fashion sense ever since. I like to admire other people with their best outfits. I just did not consider myself following their lead.
She could criticize me without being over dramatic. Her words kept me in line according to her own interpretation of what’s good for me.
“My mother thinks this color suits me,” I lied. All in the family thought I had a weird sense of color: blue was everything in my world.
“You look lonely,” she remarked. “Are you lonely?”
“I am very happy, see!” I showed her some teeth, almost looking like Jack after being sprang out of the box.
“I mean, you project loneliness with that dark blue. How about a sunny yellow.”
I loved the sun, sunshine, sunset, sunrise or even solar power but I would not be caught wearing yellow.
“Why not be content with what I am wearing? I don’t tell you what to wear.”
“Our colors clash. People will think we are in some kind of trouble.”
Aha! That’s what she was afraid of, what other people might think. Not me.
“Okay, except for yellow which I would never consider, what color you wish me to wear?”
She smiled angelically. Her rose red dress complimented her white complexion.
Sometimes, I wanted to punch my mouth repeatedly for trapping myself into a losing situation. With my compromising question, I gave her the blanket authority to reject my blue-eyed vision.
“I like that you wear red,” she proposed, testing the limits of my tolerance.
I thought I was dead with that statement.
“But I think you could wear your light blue shirt. Will that be all right?”