my mom wears a mildly inappropriate dress (inappropriate in terms of the occasion of celebration, i.e. “overdressed,” and not inappropriate in terms of modesty – glad we cleared this up). There was the year – her sophomore year in high school – when she wore that floral silk number to Math 101 at 9:30AM and literally every other girl present was donning a poodle skirt. “It’s my birthday!” she said with a shrug, adjusting her layered, billowy skirt, as if this information helped her case, in which it did. Because birthday dresses, I’ve been told, are not just reserved for the 8-and-under variety.
And of course, to that I say, “Never!” Because if there’s any concept I’m learning to apply in my 40’s, it’s to do whatever you want, man. Be a waitress at your favorite restaurant forever. Learn to play the drums. Ignore the real world. Travel extensively. Don’t travel at all. Wear a fancy birthday dress every year. Every day, even. Do it if it makes you smile. All the better, do it if it makes someone else smile.
Commence musings. The evening of her birthday, Max and Pres came and our dinner plans were put into place, but her birthday dress was calling her name from the depths of the closet and I couldn’t bear to ignore the siren song. So, this is the story of how we ended up at Asian Star – going out dancing, doing our thing – smiling for a camera and prancing around in a birthday dress when it wasn’t even my birthday, just my mom’s birthday, or any special day other than today – arguably the most special day of all.
