Marriage to the Artist

Saturday evening, Murray and I had a reception to go to. As a new mother, any excuse to get out of the house is a good excuse, even for the simple reason that it means getting to wear something that is not sweatpants. I absolutely get giddy when I go to my closet to choose what it is I'm going to wear. This Saturday was even more special because I'd recently found my favorite headband that had been lost for over a year (another blog post on this later). There was one slight problem. The headband was kelly green but I couldn't find my matching kelly green shirt. But I could find my olive green shirt. And I wondered if I could really get away with this, and I finally justified it because the headband is a little iridescent and I'm sure that in the changing of colors, an olive hue was in there somewhere. And so it was that I put on a fabulous gray wrap, an olive green shirt, and a great pair of jeans. This outfit was so not sweatpants.

Murray, Gulliver and I got into the car. And we got about 0.25 of a block away from the house when this conversation began:

Cicada: Wait. What kind of a reception is this?

Murray: A wedding reception.

Cicada: What??? I can't wear jeans to a wedding reception! I thought that it was like an art show or something!!

[This despite the fact that Murray had said that we needed to meet his coworkers at 6:00 because they tended to attend these things together---just like they did at our wedding reception. Also despite the fact that I'm pretty sure Murray explicitly said "wedding reception" at some point. But because he initially said "reception at my boss's studio" my brain had latched onto the word "studio," assumed that it was an art show, and refused to register any additional information about the evening.]

Murray: You look fine. You'll be okay in jeans.

Cicada: I absolutely cannot do it. Or... maybe I can do it. No! I can't do it! Turn the car around!

[Murray drives straight through a roundabout.]

Cicada: That would have been an ideal time to turn the car around.

Murray: Are you serious?

Cicada: Yes. I absolutely cannot wear jeans. We need to go back to the house.

[We drive back to the house. Murray waits with Gulliver in the car while I run into the mess that is a bedroom as we're in the middle of a closet cleaning project that involves me getting out all my non-maternity clothes that have been packed away for months. I realize that the only skirt that will match the existing shirt and sweater combo is one that has been packed away. I find it and bless polyester because it is not wrinkled. I put it on and start the mad search for pantyhose, which I also haven't worn in months. I find a great pair of patterned black hose and in trying to put them on realize that they are torn to shreds and must go into the garbage. I start searching for my nude fishnets with no luck. I decide to do something I never do, and that is go out without pantyhose in the middle of the winter. And I thank the heavens that despite me being a new mother, I did actually shave my legs the day before. I run out into the car.]

Cicada: Ugh. I'm not wearing pantyhose. Do you think that'll be okay? I really wish I could have found pantyhose!

[Murray pulls away and gets onto the road again.]

Murray: No, you look fine. The lack of pantyhose doens't bother me at all. But I will mention, just so that you know, something about your headband.

Cicada: Oh no.

Murray: It's just that it's not the same color of green as your shirt. Your shirt is an olive green. The headband is more of a blue green. I'm just saying that they don't go together.

Cicada: I was wondering about that...

Murray: Some people just see two things and they think, "These things are both green! They must go together!" But those two colors of green don't go together.

Cicada: You know, this is something that you could have told me BEFORE I ran into the house.

Murray: I didn't really see it until you came out of the house.

Cicada: Well, are you embarrassed to be seen in public with me? Should we turn the car around again?

Murray: No, but couldn't you just take it out and fluff your hair?

Cicada: No.

Murray: I don't pretend to understand how women's hair works. But anyway, I love color! And I see color everywhere. It's kindof like you and how you're always watching for birds. I always look for color. Like that road sign back there. I don't just see a green road sign. I see blue-green. And I don't see orange. I see red-orange. I just can always immediately see differences in colors.

Cicada: By "immediately" you mean "after it's too late for me to change my headband."

Murray: Well, I don't want to give you a complex or anything.

And so it was that I wore a mismatched headband to a wedding reception. At least I wasn't wearing jeans.


Jonathon said...

Ha! I've had similar conversations with Brinestone about a forest green shower curtain that clashed with the sage green rug and towels.

C. said...

Wow, this would never happen with Ben. He's the typical "can see 8 colors" male. There are times that it is very convenient.

Carlita said...

I saw your blog on Sussy and took a peek - it's darling. And I am also married to an artist, and he is verrrry particular when it comes to colors. I'm pretty sure I've had a similar conversation about the color green.