outfit repeater

It was my last first day today. Going back to school, for the beginning of my last semester, was real. I haven't been back to that place, as in Maq uni, since November; nearly 10 months. I fluctuated between actually being quite excited (the names of my classes at least sound really exciting), and being filled to the brim with dread. 

I just didn't want to do the whole thing, the new, the meeting people, the unknown, the work load, the books. The 'lets go around the room and introduce each other' thing. The travelling on the train, the waiting for class, the normality of it all. I'm uncomofrtable when life gets comfortable and being here, is certainly that - entirely and in every way familiar. I hadn't even stepped on campus yet and I had to call IT Help. They put me on hold and played piano music. As I said, way too familiar. Like an old jumper, holes and smells and all; comfortable. Because I'm into bad analogies, I'm putting on another semester; an outfit repeater.

in denial about where I go to school now.

Something I really enjoyed in Africa - as I did also in both East Timor and Papua New Guinea - is the opportunity to completely neglect what I look like. 

Africa.
with the (incredible) house mates.
no makeup. no care.

Any routine I have at home, from doing my hair, to even wearing deodorant, gladly goes out of the window for me. I love not having to worry, or think about the length of my eyelashes, or the size of my jeans. I enjoy throwing on comfortable anything's and parading around with braids, unkempt.

butt out.
braids be crazy.

 I didn't feel beautiful and honestly vomited a little bit in my mouth anytime I faced a mirror, but that all went by the wayside as I invested that care, and time, into other things. 

attractive?
how about beauty in relationship investment.

Being present, serving others, learning, loving, cooking, talking and investing in the moment. I loved that. I had no one to impress but my Audience of One. There's such freedom in that. And as I rotated my four skirts for four weeks (one of which ended up being completely see-through, found that out the hard way), I couldn't help but fall in love with the lifestyle. Africa was all out freedom seeking in outfit repeating.

the birds nest.

I live in Australia, where for the most part - the sky is blue, the days are hot and the sun is always plentiful. I've never used a dryer in my life, and so when moving to Seattle and into the dorms, with no balcony let alone sunshine, I had something else coming. And in many ways I learnt to love the thing. Taking clothes out of the dryer and putting them straight on, or in my case - dumping them in a pile on my bed and laying on top of them until they went cold, is one of life's little greatnesses. It's wonderful.

 But, being Australian and thus completely un-educated, I just washed all my things that way. That's right, even my 100% cotton things, and all other else. Now, I wasn't prepared for Seattle in the first place - with no long pants, or sweat shirts - but within my first wash, I just became scandalous. My short shorts were shorter shorts, my tee shirts were mid-rifs and my tank tops were semi-long bra's.

prime example.
this "dress" used to be just above the knee.
no longer.

Part of this unfortunate incident was me shrinking my one and only Orange HOPE campaign tee-shirt, one which - not surprisingly - I wear on a very regular basis. 

taking selfies in the tee.

Any speaking engagement, gig, fundraising event, photo opportunity or barely related occasion, and I'm there in it. Wearing my just a little too small and just a little bit tight, Orange HOPE tee.

told you.

And I have a lot of little bit's coming up, and I'll be there at each of them. Busting it out, wearing it proud. It's going to look like, in all my photos, that I'm the world's worst outfit repeater. And I guess, by that standard, well yeah - I guess I really am. But you know what? My shruken little Orange HOPE tee represents a passion in my belly. A message in my heart. A longing within me to share, about Malawi. About Estere, and missions and HOPE for AIDS. About hope, love, goodness and forgiveness.

SIMWorld on Saturday.

If being an outfit repeater means I get to repeat, and repeat, and repeat this message, for months on end, to many a person, on many occasions, then what a privilege. A message of hope and love and value. Of purpose and tangible, beautiful, practical, messy care. Then I'm there. One outfit and all.