Island of the Dolls/ La Isla de Munecas
I grew up with many types of dolls, from what we called “doll babies” the kind you rock and feed and play Mommy with, to Cabbage Patch, to Barbie dolls. We won’t even get started on doll like toys, that were humanish but not really dolls, per se. (My Little Pony, Gloworms, etc). I was never frightened as a child by dolls. I do remember one night waking up in bed screaming because I thought my Cabbage Patch doll, Roxanna Sabine, had moved. Well, her hair. My mom explained that her hair probably did move (it was a long, dark brown, yarn ponytail) because I had probably moved Roxanna in my sleep, making her jiggle, thus causing her hair to move. I went with it.
Even when I visited my Aunt Lee (RIP), her room full of “collector’s dolls” didn’t scare me. I thought they were beautiful- porcelain dolls on high shelves, sometimes under glass. I remember that I liked the Japanese dolls best, and I still have one somewhere that Aunt Lee gave me when I was “old enough to appreciate it”.
But, the Island of Dolls in Mexico, that brings Pediophobia to a whole new level, even for someone like me, that isn’t afraid of dolls.
Located in Xochimilco, a suburb of Mexico City, the Island of Dolls’ history is a little unclear. It is believed that Don Julian Santana Barerra moved there in the mid twentieth century, after abandoning his wife and family. The Island of Dolls, was just a small island located in the Teshuilo Lake. Accounts say that shortly after moving to the island, he made a sad and gruesome discovery- the body of a young girl washed onto the shore of his island, believed to have drowned while playing in the lake. While processing her presence on his shores, a doll came floating in the lake behind her, which he believed to be her doll.
Sensing that this was a traumatic and unexpected death, Don Julian worried that her soul would be restless and uneasy. To appease her soul, he took the small doll and hung it from a tree. Don Julian still fell her soul was not at rest, so he took upon the task of looking everywhere for dolls- taking a small boat to Xochimilco on most days, gathering them from trash cans, no matter their state. For over 50 years, Don Julian hung dolls (or parts of dolls) all over his island, earning it the name, La Isla de Munecas.
Don Julian’s death echoed the tragic death of the young girl, being found floating in the river, near the shore of the island in 2001. Many people in Xochimilco, including Don Julian’s family wonder if the little girl really existed, as there were no reported missing children around the time he found her. They wonder if it was a dream, a hallucination, or just something that he thought happened. La Isla de Munecas is a popular tourist site now, with visitors bringing dolls with them, to leave on the island, in honor and memory of Don Julian and the little girl.
Cover Reveal 4 Aug 2023
Tomorrow is the day! A cover reveal for Paranormal North Carolina, my 2nd non-fiction working, also being published by Peaceful Musings Publishing, an imprint of L.D.B. Press.
World Paranormal Day- Aokigahara Forest, Japan
Aokigahara Forest, sometimes called the haunted forest or the suicide forest, is located in a shadow. The shadow of Mt. Fuji, to be more precise. As in any forest, you will also be in the shadows, cast by the conifer and broad leaf trees. Locals call it Jukai which translates into “sea of trees”. The canopy is so dense, once inside you won’t be able to see the sun, again, you’re among the shadows.
Having never been to this forest (or Japan, or Asia) I can only write about others’ experiences and the (fictionalized) accounts I’ve seen in the movies The Forest and Sea of Trees, the first a thriller/horror movie, the second more of a thriller, drama style movie. I have also watched several documentaries about Aokigahara. All of these depictions show the same thing- a vast forest of trees, devoid of sound and animals, almost a vacuum. The living can tour it, and it is highly recommended they go with a local guide and NEVER stray from the path. Cables, strings, flags, and other homemade devices are seen among the trees- more permanent path markers than Hansel and Gretel used, but this is no fairy tale. Compasses don’t work here; scientists believe it’s the iron in the soil. Trees grow in multiple directions, their branches entangling each other, making it impossible to distinguish where one tree begins and another ends. But why is it haunted?
Some legends say the first accounts of paranormal activity began in Aokigahara after ubaste took place there. Ubaste is the Japanese folklore or legend, that elderly family members were taken to the forest to starve to death, during periods of great famine in Japan, or when a family had no other choice, and could not afford the care of their elderly relatives. The Japanese people believe that Aokigahara is haunted by the Yurei, or ghosts, of these poor abandoned people.
Aokigahara is often referred to as” the suicide forest” due to the high number of people that have taken their own lives there (105 documented suicides since 2003, but Japan refuses to publish anymore suicide data). Unofficially, the number of suicides that have taken place are over 500, as of 2021. Many believe that those are only the accounted for and found bodies. Many people have gone to visit the forest and never been found, presumed to be dead, but not making the official unofficial count.
Why? Why is Aokigahara Forest such a desirable place for those ending their life? Is it the call of the Yurei? The thought of not being alone in the afterlife? To begin with, suicide in Japan is viewed very differently than most cultures. Honorable suicide, or Seppuku, has long been a recognized Japanese custom. Japan has one of the highest suicide rates among first world nations, as they promote a heavily unbalanced work and sacrificial life. Many workers find themselves working to beyond exhaustion and burn out and see suicide as their only way out- a way to release their family financially and remain honorable. Traditionally, Asian cultures don’t recognize mental health symptoms (expressing them as physical symptoms) and do not promote therapy. Survivors of suicide attempts at Aokigahara have spoken of a powerful force, drawing them into the forest, then confusing them, both in direction and “mentally”. Many reported they chose the forest so that they couldn’t be found, but also so they would be amongst the others that had suffered and died before them.
The draw to Aokigahara can not only be attributed to the paranormal. In Kuroi Jukai a novel by Seicho Matsumo, the forest is described as “the perfect place to die”. After it’s publication in 1960, visits to Aokigahara sharply rose. In addition to Matsumo’s novel, several songs in Japanese culture have romanticized the idea of taking one’s life in Aokigahara.
Signs in several languages have been placed at entrances to the forest (which are also monitored via cameras by the Japanese version of Forest Rangers). These signs read things like “Things will get better”, “You are a gift to your family”, and “Please reconsider”. Volunteers routinely roam the paths of the forest, to dissuade any would be attempts by people they meet in the forest. Aokigahara is the second most popular site for suicides in the world, the first being the Golden Gate Bridge.
Sources: Welcome to Aokigahara – The Scary Haunted Forest in Japan (itsyourjapan.com)
Inside Aokigahara, The Haunting ‘Suicide Forest’ Of Japan (allthatsinteresting.com)
Listening to: The Forest (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) on Spotify
If you or someone you know is thinking about harming themselves or committing suicide, please dial 988 in the US, or text “home” to 741741
In the UK please dial 0800 689 5652 or 0800 58 58 58.
In Japan, please dial 03-6634-2556
International Suicide Hotlines – OpenCounseling : OpenCounseling
Double Oaks Bed and Breakfast, Greensboro
Well, this is at least not as awkward as last time…I’ve only been absent from the blog 13 months instead of two years.
A few announcements- a giant thank you to LDB Press, as they have picked up Paranormal North Carolina, and we all eagerly await it’s release date. (Ok, I eagerly await the release date).
Despite the fact that PNC is complete, the paranormal investigations, research, and site visits in NC haven’t stopped. I have done two investigations that won’t be included in this edition of PNC just because (and you know this if you’re familiar with writing, publishing, etc) once you have submitted your FINAL manuscript, with all of the changes, edits, etc. adding anything else just slows down the production process.
Therefore, I present my write up of Double Oaks Bed and Breakfast, located in Greensboro, NC. I am writing this in the style of each entry/chapter of PNC, so you’ll get a little taste, however it is not a true excerpt, for reasons stated above.
Double Oaks Bed and Breakfast, began in 1906, finished in 1909 as a house for Harden Thomas Martin and his family. H.T. Martin was a grocer, and having a large, two and a half story Colonial Revival style house with a large wraparound porch, and a second-floor balcony, helped show the success of Martin and his store. The Martin House, as it was known, remained in the Martin family until 1973. It was sold to Charles Forrester in 1977, a Greensboro businessman. In 1995, it was sold to the Milam family, who operated it as a Bed and Breakfast from 1998-2007. It was a private residence for a while, until the current owners and innkeepers purchased it in 2016, opening it as Double Oaks B&B. Renovations to the third floor (addition of two suites) were done in 2020 and 2021, during the pandemic.
I had the very fortunate opportunity to spend the night in the Milam Suite (the most haunted spot!) in the house in late January, due to my job with a local non-profit. Our boss picked the lovely Double Oaks for a team retreat, and when she initially told us where we would be staying, I immediately searched Double Oaks with the query “Double Oaks B and B haunted”. I was very pleased to find a travel blog post that mentioned several staff members had reported that on three separate occasions, guests had reported seeing a lady singing and doing her hair in a bathroom. I emailed my team and asked if it would be possible to claim the “haunted room” and they were all too happy to oblige. (We as a staff, had no idea the setup of the house, just that there are six rooms, and we would each have our own room and bathroom.)
When I arrived at the house, my room was the Milam Suite, named after the first owners to utilize Double Oaks as a B&B. As a very lucky bonus, Double Oaks had just added a local coffee shop operation to part of their sunporch. I asked the barista, whom I later earned was also the Director of Operations, about any ghosts. He reported that he had heard and seen pots and pans swinging in the kitchen with no explanation. He also told me that several employees act as baristas, and they find their day goes more smoothly (operationally) if they pour the first shot into a tiny glass espresso cup and leave it on the windowsill with other clean cups. “Imogene’s shot” they call it, in honor of the woman apparition that several guests have seen.
I was at Double Oaks to WORK not to investigate, but if you know me, you know me. I put a digital voice recorder in my room as I slept and before I could even unpack my suitcase, I had a motion activated camera in the bathroom, pointing at the sink, mirror and what I will call “heaven”- a large, two shower headed walk in shower complete with an old-fashioned claw tub in the shower. At least four people could have fit comfortably in that shower, with a fifth in the tub. If I ever get to select where I haunt once I’ve passed on, please look for me in the bathroom of the Milam Suite of Double Oaks.
I also brough an EMF detector with me, hoping for some video Q&A with the spirit(s) but found that my detector remained between medium and high the entire time it was on, meaning their baseline for Electromagnetic Fields is HIGH. (Between 2.5-10 milliGAUSS. A room without this amount of EMF would rest at 1.5 miliGAUSS or less.) This is not too surprising- it’s an old home. The wiring is not going to be as sound as a newer build. I did find it interesting that it was between 2.5-10 milliGAUSS wherever I was in the bedroom. The bathroom and the attached sitting room had lower readings, but never low. Scientifically, I had to think if I was lying in bed with medium to high readings washing over me all night, could this all be just caused by EMF? (High EMF can cause sick feelings, paranoia, headaches, and hallucinations.) The psychologist in me thought that even if the ghostly woman was caused by hallucinations, it would be odd that all three guests reported seeing the same thing.
Mike, the chef, greeted me the next morning (with a fabulous vegetable and cheese frittata, by the way) and was happy to tell me what he had experienced in the house. He reported that he was finishing up dinner preparations one afternoon, when he noticed that the pots and pans began to swing. “Slowly at first, then harder,” he reported. Thinking it could be vibrations from traffic, or someone upstairs, he went and steadied them, but they began to swing again. He smirked as he told me that as he watched the pots and pans swing around a second time he began to smile, and texted one of the innkeepers “I don’t know who you have in the Milam Suite (suite above the kitchen) but they are quite amorous. My kitchen is shaking.” He finished prep and was getting ready to leave when he got a response “we don’t have any guests checked in.” He said the pots and pans continued to swing and shake, and he showed every employee that came in that day, as he decided to stay and see how long the movement continued (several hours). Another incident that happened to him was on a cold winter morning. He was in the kitchen, prepping for breakfast, when he saw what he described as “a young woman with a blanket or shawl around her shoulder, and lots of brown hair piled into a bun” pass by his kitchen window. That window faced onto the back part of the porch, into the backyard. He dropped his prep, and went to let her in, as he assumed this was a guest that had gone out for an early morning walk, and when he reached the door, no one was there, and no one was on the porch. He found out the couple in residence overnight was elderly, and when he served them at breakfast, they did not meet the description of what he had seen. Overall, he feels that whatever is present is not malevolent.
As we were doing group meetings on our second day, I ran into the housekeeper and explained that while my room was cleared and ready to be turned over, I had left a camera in the bathroom and a voice recorder on the mantle, was that ok? She looked at me kind of oddly for a minute, so I quickly explained “just ghost hunting stuff”. She nodded and then said “well, you’re in the right room for that!” Of course, I asked her if she could explain. She stated that whenever she was cleaning the Milam Suite, she felt like she was being watched and felt uncomfortable in there (see above notes on EMF). She also asked if I had spent any time in the attached sitting room, and I explained that I really hadn’t. She took me into the sitting room and showed me an antique cabinet. It remined me of my mom’s china cabinet. Drawers (wooden) on the bottom, then a glass hutch on top, for display. She asked me to open the hutch, and I realized it was locked, with a key in the lock. I twisted the key a full twist, and the hutch opened once I pulled on it. She pointed to small, old, pictures of children that were on display. “I was vacuuming in here, turning over the room one day. I start in the sitting room, then cross into the bedroom, then I walk back into the sitting room to unplug the vacuum,” she explained. “I had done both rooms, no issue, and when I went back to unplug the vacuum, the hutch was open, and several pictures of the children were on the floor, several feet from the cabinet.” She said she replaced them, locked the hutch and left.
Now my coworkers were very nice to let me have the room with the most activity, but I asked if the housekeeper had seen anything else in the house. She reported that one day she was cleaning the suites on the third floor, and she knocked on the door before entering, as is habit, even though she knew no guests were in the house. She heard a woman call “you may come in” in a strong voice, and when she opened the door, no one was in the room.
I loved hearing the staff’s genuine interactions and was hoping I had “caught” something” despite not having much equipment set up. I am happy to report, that around 1130pm the camera from the bathroom was triggered to record for a few seconds. Nothing is visible, but the last few seconds of the recording have quiet, music box-like music playing. I ruled out cell phones, etc. That’s my one find that can’t be explained. I am hoping to have a second investigation in the Milam Suite soon, with much more equipment, focusing on both rooms.
Check my Facebook Author page for some pictures and the video, and please watch for updates on Paranormal North Carolina.
So…this is awkward
How do you explain a two-year absence on your blog?
a) ignore it and just proceed like you’ve been updating it regularly
b) remind everyone your primary job is “therapist” and we’ve been in a pandemic
c) announce that at least during the pandemic you wrote a book
d) all of the above
Let’s go with D.
It has been a CRAZY two years y’all, but I don’t have to tell you that. This pandemic has touched every corner of the world, so no need to re-hash all that.
It kept me very busy with current patients, new patients, and trying to navigate a global pandemic WHILE providing support to these patients (what we have now termed “parallel processing”)
I had a period in the summer of ’21 where I had some time to kill, but the thought of writing a book about ANYTHING therapy just felt like it would burn me out. Yet, we’ve been told “Write what you know”… did I ever mention I’ve been on a Paranormal Investigation Team since 2009?
No…yeah, I’ve probably been too busy. Paranormal North Carolina is written, edited, registered, and has a publisher.
Yay! So that and insane work schedule has been my pandemic experience. Would like to make this a series, so we’ll see how long this pandemic goes (hopefully not much longer).
Stay safe and healthy and thanks for following a blog that gets updated every two years. (let’s try for once a month)
It’s been a while, but when lightning strikes…
I should have scrolled back to see when my last post was. I really should have. I am kind of scared to, because I am afraid that the year in “18” instead of “19” and that is just… well, there’s no excuse for that. Despite working 4 jobs, 3 jobs? (I’m not sure how to count these two part time as needed jobs) I do have time in my life to blog. Maybe not as much time as mommy bloggers, but still, there is time.
Ok, so moving on, what is new… I went to a 6 day training in Sedona, Arizona in May for Complex PTSD (C-PTSD). Fascinating stuff. Both C-PTSD and the treatments for it are fascinating it, I mean. I’m already implementing the treatments in therapy with several clients and things seem to be going well.
What made me remember that I have a blog and that I haven’t written in it in few months (at least)? We (husband and I) were at Mom and Dad’s for an Independence Day cookout. First, Mom and I had to go see Aladdin. Confession, this was my third time seeing the live action Aladdin with Will Smith. It just keeps getting better, seriously.
Anyway, on the way home from the movies, it was thundering and lighting. The rain was coming. Mom said to me, “you better call your father and tell him to start the burgers now before the rain comes.” Just as she said that, this huge streak of lightning went across the sky. “We can wait Mom. I’m sure no one is starving.” I assured her. “It’s not worth Dad getting struck by lightning over.” I was sort of joking, but serious too.
She’s driving and just casually says “Yeah, I guess you’re right, we don’t want him to get struck by lightning again.”
“AGAIN? When was Dad struck by lightning?” How come they don’t tell me important things, but will call to discuss gas prices with me, and how much rain Dad’s new rain gauge has collected.
“Oh, in Vietnam. I only know because he had to tell the heart doctor. We think it’s why his heart skips.” She’s still super cool about all of this.
My takeaway “oh awesome, Dad’s got arrhythmia and has been struck by lightning, and how the f&*k did not make the book?”
So when we got home I asked him about it. Dad and his soldiers were laying lines when a storm rolled in. (This was his first tour) Not wanting anyone to get hurt, Dad sent his two soldiers to the truck. As he radioed to nearby soldiers to let them know the situation he happened to be leaning against the switchboard they were installing. Lightning struck the wire, traveled along the line, and hit the switchboard. He was knocked backwards, against the wall of the bunker, about five feet away. Dad says he doesn’t remember what happened, just that a medic was over him with smelling salts and he felt tingly and numb at the same time, They took him to an in country hospital for observation overnight. “That was the best part, I got a long shower and clean clothes.” When he was released the next day, he was sent back to his unit with his release paperwork buttoned to his shirt, clearing him to return to duty. A far cry from the electronic medical records of today.
This explained why my dad was so freaked out when we were younger and on the phone during storms. I never believed that lightning could actually through lines, I thought it was more of a myth or urban legend. I still love a good storm, but will avoid corded phones, if any of those exist anymore.
I’m officially old
I haven’t got the AARP card application in the mail YET, but I got the second closest indicator of oldness- a Facebook invite to my 20 year high school reunion in October. Now I can do math (a fact that’s debatable if you’ve been to board game night with me and watched me struggle to add scores), so I know 2018-1998=20. It’s just that the logical math fact that I graduated 20 years ago doesn’t compute with my head memories. My head tells me I was in high school “about 10 years ago” and in college “about 7 years ago”, ignoring the logical fact that I’ve been married 11 years next month and I met my husband when I was starting graduate school and married him 2 weeks after I graduated. Graduate school? That was 3 or 4 years ago, right? Never mind, that I’ve been in private practice for 9 years this year, and logically, I couldn’t practice until after two years after graduate school (the time it takes to earn your licenses).
My friends seem to suffer from this mental math block too. I don’t know if they personalize it to their own lives and careers, but we definitely think that the 1990’s were 10 years ago, 15 at best.
So how does this affect my writing? Well, I just don’t seem to have the energy I used to after working a 12 hour day to pull out the laptop and squeeze a few 100 words in. Working four jobs (I calculate it in my head as three, since two of them are very occasionally, funny, the IRS calculates them as four) and trying to still lead an active social life seems to be draining my creativity tap.
I will think of great scenes for the novel here and there, but they get fewer and far between. Making the time to write is another challenge. I WILL be working at [occasional] job 4 next weekend, so hopefully, that might allow for a few hundred words to find their way to the hard drives.
Remember when I used to blog about February and March being my busiest times for not being able to write because it was “Walk Season” for ALS? [Occasional] job 3. (I should specify that the job is running two of their support groups, chairing their Walk committee was purely voluntary). Now we don’t have a Walk to Defeat ALS where I live. That should give me more time. Of course it doesn’t!
NOW, I try to host a fundraiser once a year in the area where I live to raise awareness and funds for ALS so that people won’t forget that we are here. Want to know the difference between chairing a Walk Committee and doing your own fundraiser? There’s still about the same amount of sleepless nights, just with your own fundraiser you are starting from scratch when you are begging for donations and volunteers. (My ALS is For the Birds volunteers- aka, my family, friends, and interns that have been forced into this because they couldn’t come up with a quick enough excuse not to, I DO love and appreciate all of you. )
All of that being said, share your tips, busy writers, with how you squeeze time in to write. I had a doctor tell me she wrote 3 books in between patients. I’ve thought about that, and might have to start dragging the tiny laptop to work with me for those pesky no shows and last minute cancellations. I could also schedule 2 hours a weekend to devote to writing. Two hours isn’t much but it’s better than nothing.
Keep Writing, and send some energy to me!
No, we can’t cancel Christmas this year.
I’ve been hearing this A LOT this year from colleagues, clients, random people in the street. This idea of canceling Christmas isn’t new. There’s a movie about it, and even when I googled “Cancel Christmas” to fact check that there was indeed a movie about it, my hits were all blog posts “Why We Canceled Christmas” “How to Cancel Christmas” “Fed Up Parents Cancel Christmas”. Those were just the top three. So tell me, bloggers, why are you telling people to do something they can not do? Canceling Christmas in my mind is like going to the beach and running out to the shoreline and yelling to the ocean “NO! Don’t send the next wave in! Stop the waves!” You can’t do it. YOU (or I, or the bloggers telling you to) don’t have that kind of power.
Why do you want to cancel Christmas? Let’s address that instead because THAT (whatever “that” is) we have some control over.
- The Holidays/Christmas are overwhelming. Take a step back, take a deep breath and keep breathing. What aspects are overwhelming? Are you overextending yourself physically, financially, both? Is your extended family coming and you’re worried that everything has to be perfect? These are the kinds of thoughts and behaviors that you can examine and change. Limit yourself to one or two holiday parties, or NO holiday parties if that is the right answer for you. Don’t participate in the office Secret Santa if that is too overwhelming for you. Make a budget and stick to it. Let go of the idea of perfection. Nothing is perfect. NOTHING. Work on progress, not perfection.
2. I can’t afford Christmas. Kids’ Christmas lists a mile long? Not sure how you’re going to pay for that PS4 and the tablet they are asking for? Don’t. Have the kids re-write their lists. Give them a spending cap. How do you explain a spending cap to a five-year-old? You don’t. You just tell her that she can pick from one of these 3 items (all within your spending limit) to ask Santa for. You do explain the spending cap to the older ones, and not to sound like a cheesy Hallmark movie, but you remind them that Christmas is about giving. Find an angel tree or have them pick out a new gift for Toys for Tots (Thank you, Marines!) and explain that this gift they are giving will be in place of one they are getting this year.
Scale down the rest of the works, too. You don’t have to have a 5-course holiday dinner or fancy, catered party. Have the family do things pot-luck style, or go with appetizers and snacks on Christmas Day.
3. I just can’t get into the spirit this year. Now, I am a therapist by trade, so I am totally going to give you a pass if you’re grieving or dealing with something larger than life right now (terminal illness, extreme mental illness) but if this is just a case of the blues- get yourself into the spirit. Watch a TV special and eat a Christmas cookie, damn it! Go window shopping. Drink some Limited Edition seasonal tea or coffee that screams “Holidays are Here!”
What I’m trying to say, is that who are we, to stop or cancel Christmas (or any wintertime holiday*)? I am not even coming from the religious aspect here (although that is important for many). If nothing else, the holidays should be about a feeling of peace and love and if you’re wanting to cancel that, it might be time to rest, take a breath and examine what is really going on and what you are really running from.
*footnote, just utterly curious if people of other religions/beliefs threaten to cancel their festivities? I have never heard of anyone threatening to “Cancel Hanukkah” this year or “Skip Kwanzaa”. I have a feeling that might have to do with how much expectation and commercialization are associated with Christmas, but I was just curious. Feel free to comment.
Happiest of Holidays to you, and Peace always, Joanna.
I survived Black Friday- as a retail clerk!
Many of you know that my “real” job is not an author. It is being a therapist. So you might wonder why I was working retail on Black Friday. Over the summer, I picked up a few hours here and there (PRN, as we say in the medical world) at a little, locally owned, used bookstore and art gallery. AND I LOVE IT. (I know, don’t start a sentence with and.)
I love being around the books, I love seeing what people read, I love the quiet, I love the rotating art we display and the privilege of meeting some of the artists. When my boss (who is the nicest lady in the world to work for) informed me that Black Friday was mandatory, I was not surprised. This was the retail world. Black Friday is always mandatory. It’s a day off in the therapy world for most therapists, because everyone is too turkey hungover or busy spending money to come in for therapy.
I was excited until she mentioned that because it is in conjunction with Dicken’s Holiday ( a Fayetteville tradition) it would be the biggest, busiest day of the year, AND I would need to be in Victorian dress. Um, what? Thanks to my recent weight loss of 40 lbs, anytime I’m not wearing “normal” work clothes or my standard jeans (now with a belt) I have to play a fun game of “will this be too big or too small?” If you’ve ever struggled with weight, you have a closet like I do- several sizes too small “just in case” or “I couldn’t bear to part with it”, or “my inspiration outfit”. I stopped doing that crap years ago, but I do have several dressier outfits that I’ve held onto.
“Just go to a thrift store!” my nice boss told me when I explained that I knew I didn’t have anything that passed for Victorian in my current size. Now, I don’t know the thrift stores she frequents, but the ones I went to head skin-tight leather pants and cropped black tops with “bebe” emblazoned across them. Or REALLY old lady stuff. Not Victorian though. I managed to find a size too small $6 long plaid skirt on an online shopping app I use, a $16 blouse at Burlington (way too much for a blouse I will never wear again, but it was long sleeved and kind of ruffly). Those, paired with a decorative black scarf tied around my waist and ankle boots, and I kind of looked like a pirate/waitress. My boss loved it, so it worked. I couldn’t really breathe in the skirt, but it zipped, so that led me to sit with Victorian-like posture for most of my shift- which was slammed. For a small bookstore, there was barely move to room- gotta love that with PTSD. Luckily, I was behind the desk for most of my shift, or I would dash outside, to equally crowded streets, for fresh air.
I survived, and I will do it again next year, now that I have a year to search for Victorianesque items, or as my one coworker said: “just make it look like you work in a fancy Italian restaurant and throw a crinoline under your skirt.”
There you have it. I hope you survived Black Friday, and that you will support your local business for Shop Small Saturday!
Joanna Nunez, Author 