she is a girl with pretty things

i am not a girly girl, oh i used to say that a lot. five minute showers, no blow driers, no make up, no scissors come close to my hair. when it came to clothes it was a little different the best worn out boy blue jeans with the most delicate of white shirts, pretty earring or necklace and the shoes always pretty almost always red and sometimes scuffed! well now a days on the farm i look like i belong in the barn- no it is true! except for my hunter wellies everything else is well, a mess. i can always be found with hay in my hair. on a car ride home my mother said honey your letting yourself go as she pointed at my vintage bag with a whole in it, my black long sweater that she saw on me everyday that week! I wanted to tell her who cares i feel good but truth is i did not feel good,i had noticed it myself. as i walk past the walk in closets bursting with pretty things i have gathered i realize somehow myself esteem has slipped. so here is to bringing the pretty things out.