My Name Changes With the Season
Thursday, August 6th, 2009
There is this natural phenomenon that occurs with the four of us when we are delirious late at night, or are inspired by incredible coordinated outfits: We get new names or personas.
Our holiday party, we all wore reindeer antlers, and thus were:
Next, we had an “ice cream social” 1950s house wife party.
Wendy: Dotty (she wore polka dots, she was the “mistress,” she drinks martinis, cleans the house all day, and has affairs with your husband)
Kirsten: Was the housewife who stood in the background, the one who doesn’t say anything and is quite proper. We don’t even remember her name because she blended in.
Abbie: Evelyn Brown (a stern woman who opens her clutch, pulls out a pill bottle, and pops ’em down)
Olivia: Dolly (the Southern Belle who wore huge pearls, and recently engaged, sweet as pie, who loves to throw cocktail parties)
Valentine’s Day: The Bitter Ball
Wendy: The Ice Queen aka Frigid
Kirsten: The Man Eater (wearing a hat designed by Michael Harris himself, red heart with a fork stuck in it, picture will be posted soon)
Abbie: The Anti-Cupid (in black, her arrows don’t make people fall in love, they make people break up)
Olivia: The Queen of [broken] Hearts (wore a heart hat with an arrow through it, picture to come later)
The Country Bumpkins happened when we went up to Enchantment, a bed and breakfast in a yurt in the hills of Willits, Charise Griffin has a lovely Royal Suite, and does deep tissue massage therapy and facials in the gorgeous mountains. Our inner country lasses came out, mind you, a different sort of country than the whorehouse.
Wendy: Randy Dandy Boots
Kirsten: Callie Green
Abbie: Abigail Harrison, but we just call her Harrison
Olivia: Mary Jo Lean
The Sailors came next: it was our last night as “single” non-committed ladies before we signed the contract for the hat shop, our last night ashore before we set sail into the Big Hat Sea.
Abbie: Brassy (she was wearing lots of clanging bronze accessories, you’ll notice this is a theme)
Last but certainly not least, our “Incs” names. Little did you all know, but we are a big evil corporation. That’s right, Paul’s Hat Works, Inc. The other night as we are deliriously walking to the car, after working on the shop all day, making hats all night, then had a meeting which put a fire under our arses, we still were able to laugh and giggle hysterically all the way to the car. It started because I asked Kirsten when she started winking all the time, she does it constantly as acknowledgment instead of a nod or something, so I told her I’m going to start calling her “Winks.” Abbie was walking with us and her big thing of keys was jangling so Wendy called her “Clinks.” Then she started laughing and said her name should be “Tinks” because she has to pee all the time (which is true, tonight I saw her go at least 3 times in an hour). And I asked her what mine would be? What is left? She said “Drinks.” Which is hilarious because I’m either drinking coffee, wine, sugar milk (don’t ask), etc. So, we also are our own board of directors, and here is how it goes.
Wendy: Chief Financial Officer Tincs
Kirsten: Vice President Wincs
Abbie: Secretary Clincs
Olivia: President Drincs
And finally, all four of us, if you haven’t noticed, all have another “name” : Paul. We all have a little of him in each one of us.