All I needed was a headband.  I stared at myself in our bathroom mirror this morning, after softening some of my curls with a wide-barrel curling iron, and I thought, "I look too married."  I was wearing a navy and white striped fitted t-shirt with a white linen a-line skirt, falling mid calf (I think).  Flats.   Very 1950’s off the boat.  Not the immigrant boat.  The yacht. I don’t like looking this way, so Better Homes now that I’ve room for a garden.  All I need is a string of pearls and a spatula.  Yesterday we bought mixing bowls and a stainless grill.  "Screw it," I said then shut off the bathroom lights.  I then walked into my closet and stripped, finding refuge in black capri pants and a black t-shirt.  Better.  At least for now, as I await my clothing to arrive in one of the many boxes we have coming.  I just feel better in black, at least for now.  It feels more chic, even if it is the color people who have no real sense of fashion wear.  Black is too easy.  Having a sense of fashion means pulling together the harder choices and making them work.  I need new clothes.