After a food recall list went viral on Tik Tok recently, I thought it was a prank, then panicked. Luckily, my panic was short lived, as I didn’t buy anything from Sam and Ella, or anyone peddling ground beef containing e-coli. But the panic served a purpose, because as I held the refrigerator door open, I found a bottle of barbecue sauce that expired in August 2017. It was hiding next to packets of hot Chinese mustard, the caked-up bottle cap budging ever so slowly before I gave up. One thing led to another and my boring, sub-below day morphed into a frenzied, throwaway marathon.
My dogs went hungry for a little longer than usual as I excavated my husband’s pre-wrapped sandwiches from the Trump administration in the crisper drawer. Before I knew it, hatred (or, as my therapist calls it, “unresolved pain”) was unleashed on the entire house. I was exorcizing demons without realizing it, taking on the closet that bulged like Honey Boo Boo in the first run. Piles took shape until I came to a stop about mid-way through my Hawaiian fantasy collection.
It’s one thing to face reality but entirely another story when you’re stuck indoors with the eyesight of a black bat. Which makes it difficult to make decisions about what exactly looks hip and what makes you look like a reject from Dancing With the Stars. I turned up the lights and under those glaring LEDs saw N.A.N.A. which means Nowhere Attractive, Nowhere Adorable.
The truth was that a sequined aquamarine mumu made better sense in a Miami lounge not unlike the one in The BirdCage. I forced myself to review my clothing choices and it wasn’t easy. Who buys five pairs of Chuck Taylor’s in different colors? Who wears gowns that Cher would have rocked in her stomping days with Sonny Bono? Who was I when I bought these items, Coco Chanel’s Midwestern competitor? The piles for a wannabe disco lady were testimony to a mixed up fashionista with too much access to sites such as Shein and Forever 21. The owners should post a warning to everyone over 50: Hello! These duds won’t disguise your saggy knees or jowls, so do yourself a favor while you still have pride, head on over to Alfred Dunner and J. Jill. Now forward this special 20 percent off coupon code to your niece.
By the time I finished adding to those heaps, including corporate outfits from my administrator days, I was no longer fooling myself into believing they would come back into style. Now my wardrobe consists of sober neutrals, which may be considered too safe, but at least I don’t look like a walking birthday cake.
I know one thing for sure: someone is opening those bags at this moment and laughing. In any case, I think Coco Chanel would be proud, considering my journey began with an expired bottle of Open Pit barbecue sauce and a cardboard sandwich. In fact, with a pair of shades and a headscarf, I foresee cruising the globe, hanging out with a crowd who would never guess that I suffered from an identity crisis. Good thing I was stuck indoors.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Joan Voss is a former columnist for the Kenosha News, a position which began in 2013 and recently ended in October 2023 due to management changes. Long before this job, she worked as an administrative assistant for many years. She won a jingle contest at Jim Beam Brands in 1998, and things took off from that point in terms of freelance writing. It led to winning several writing awards including The Editor’s Choice Award from the International Library of Poetry. She became a regular contributing essayist for FATE Magazine which is regularly referenced on the long running cable network show on the History Channel, Ancient Aliens. In 2004, she won the government sponsored Ella T. Grasso Literary Award for my essay, Homeward Bound, a true story about a near death experience. She is the author of a contemporary romance published on Amazon via Seashell Books.
