Tuesday, June 20, 2006

My Purple Long Johns

long johns: underpants with closely fitted legs extending to the wearer's ankles.

purple: colour intermediate between red and blue.
(also Tyrian purple)a crimson dye obtained from some molluscs, formerly used for fabric worn by emperor or senior magistrate in ancient Rome or Byzantium.
(the purple - the ancient Rome) a position of rank, authority or privilege.


I think I might be the only person in Belgium who sunbathes in purple long johns ... legs rolled up of course.

I had a small smile when I thought about the history of my purple Thermatech long johns, they've seen some sights and possibly created some too.

I bought them when I was living in Marlborough, New Zealand back in the 90s. They were for tramping way back then in the days when Nature was everywhere in that country of mine.

But over time, they've doubled as or become lounge-about-the-house-writer's-pants. Today it occured to me that I could sunbathe in them, at a pinch ...

I've spent the last 24 hours creating mock-up brochures and advertisements for my business when I'm legal ... poring over, creating, rewriting, agonising, harassing friends for opinions and generally trying to forget about how long the 'in process' process is taking ... wanting to concentrate on the fact that this time in limbo has opened my world to various projects, people and opportunities.

My long johns help ... they create a persona who laughs more easily and can contort herself on chairs, at tables and on floors as she works and reworks her enthusiasm until becomes something financially viable.

They make me brave enough to jump off the cliff of doubt and into the ocean of the attempt.

I have memories of smiling because of them ... laughing apologies when Wal, the Fiordland artist, popped in for a surprise visit and found me lounging about in my house on the Peninsula; of acting casual when the postman delivered a parcel to my door while I was wearing them; of friends who have lounged in similar costume ... the costume of comfort and warmth, of purpleness.

Gert raised an eyebrow the first time I lounged in my purple long johns at his place but he's adjusted, everyone does if they hang round long enough.

2 comments:

chiefbiscuit said...

I like the story of your purple long-johns! So kiwi!

woman wandering said...

I remember going to talk with one of our top mountaineering/skiing/photography types and my aunt dropped me off ... how her jaw dropped when he met me at the door in his long johns and polyprop top, with a sleeveless skijacket vest over his shirt. It is so very kiwi ...