scribblechic

The City Museum in St. Louis is place that transforms possibility into reality.  From the moment I saw the winding tunnels, I wanted to be little again with a license to wander.  Stepping into a tunnel, I walked into a wall.  I was wearing a skirt.  Backing carefully out of the tunnel I left my husband with both children to find a pair of pants.  After all, I was standing in a place of possibility.

My search began in the obvious place, the store planted directly behind the admission counter at the front of the building.  No pants.  A deep breath and determination created hope.  I asked where I could find pants the way one asks what day it is and was directed to the vintage resale shop on the 4th floor.  Like a treasure map, I followed the path to the store my mind swirling with adventure.

Scavenging racks of clothes, I found my vanity in a row of denim cut offs.  With waists that reached to my rib cage and lengths that alternated between inappropriate and silly I grabbed an assortment of sizes, dodging the purple and pink technicolor terrors and setting my vanity aside in the dressing room.  For six dollars I traded my self-consciousness over body image for adventure and indulged the child within.