Category Archives: Clothes

Once and For All

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She smells like lilacs in the spring, where the fragrance over takes all the surrounding flowers and tickles the nose.
We were hugging now, the photo shoot almost over, but our lives together almost beginning.

He held on to me as I sank into his embrace.  Bending my arms and body into his chest allowing myself to lean into, almost feels like crawling inside him.  The warmth is intoxicating, his breath on my hair, my lips held off his chest but only to protect from the deep red glossing my lips.

Her earrings adorn her ears, and her hair is soft to my touch.  She nestles against me and lets me close my arms around her small waist. I can see her eyes smiling, she looks up at me and then softly closes her eyes as she relaxes against me.

“What am I going to do with him?” she thinks, this life of ours is about to begin, we were once just two people and now he and I together.

“How did I ever get her to say ‘Yes’” he wonders, though finding the beauty of her dress distracting as his eyes trace the buttons down her back, where the bustled skirt is straining against the captor holding it alight.

The photographer clicks a few more shots though without words as the two stand there together but one soul waiting to walk down the aisle and vow their forever love once and for all.

Image Credit: hellomuse.com

Three Little Dresses / Three Little Girls

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They’re images of brides whom I know nothing about. The dresses all match the shorter style which is all the hotness right now.

Each represents a type, a common theme.  The beauty queen, the country girl, and the chaste naive.  Some say the dress makes the girl, others say the dress finds the girl. I don’t know what to say, but I wish I knew stories of each of them.

“They’re just models” you say. “There is no story.” But there is I say, “there always is a story.” With beauty queen, why cover the right eye? Sure it could have been a photo shoot decision, but what if the makeup didn’t quite hide the circles, was she up all night partying? Was she up all night studying, and modeling is how she pays for college? I don’t know.

Take country girl.  Would anyone be surprised to find out that she doesn’t where heels that much?  The stance is awkward to say the least, but she may actually really be uncomfortable in those shoes.  The dark eyeshadow makes her all dark and twisty, which further messes with the genre we’re going with here, why a dark and twisty country girl?  Maybe she really is, so the shot was adjusted to fit her personality.

Finally, naive chaste girl.  This wedding dress scares me.  Why the baby blue bow? It feels like a young child is getting sent off to the wolves.  Her eyes are so doughy as to question if she even understands what a marriage is, let alone a lifetime.  The flapper esque dress with the antiqued room, sets the stage for a vintage style wedding, but the girls eyes really bring into question, if she really should get sent off with this groom.  Is that panic? Her fingers grasping hold of the bouquet and skirt to hold on to herself?  Possibly her personality is showing through, and she simply is concentrating that hard on the camera.  In all cases we’ll never know, but the questions will always remain.

Who were these girls, and what were their stories?

Image Credit: weddingomania.com

~Morgan Werhen 2018.

Alone In The Park

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I was sitting on the park bench that fine day enjoying the scenery, sounds, and all the green surrounding me.
The wind was breathtakingly light, the sun reflected off the trees, though, in a way it did with a surreal quality not found in photos, once caught remembered forever.
The birds nearby suddenly jumpy flapped their wings and flew off into the cloudless sky to find their nest, or food or simply enjoy that they could fly into the blue sky for no other reason than to enjoy their day.
That was when I heard them, slightly down the path a couple was walking up the road directly toward me.
Clueless to anything else around, their voices seemed caught up in each other, I couldn’t make out their words, but I could feel them float about as they traveled in and around my field of sound.
She was excited, and the red from her heels radiated around the park like light through a tunnel.  He was lost in her, I could see the way he stared at her with a longing gaze, everything she said intoxicating. Her smile never left as she held his hand and talked happily about sundry things going on in their life.
I felt like a young boy watching a guilty pleasure as this adoring couple slowly made their way toward me, oblivious to the fact that though they thought they were alone, their love for each shown like the sun in and around them. I could hear her shoes click with every step, his voice deep to her lighter tones.
Before a small clearing between the trees he stopped walking and I heard him smile, I could see her face light up as he pulled her toward him. She grasped a hold of his arm and In that the beauty of the moment eclipsed the park around them as the girl in the beautiful blue dress silently kissed her man.
At the end, she slowly pulled away, her face alight in happiness, and they walked back the way they came from, hands again intertwined, their love and life all ahead of them.
I stood to go at that point, realizing that I was again alone, their love surrounding me like the breeze spinning around on that park bench.
I walked home that day with a smile on my face and a slightly lighter step, excited for the couple whose love I had a chance to share in..
Was it a chance meeting or just that I happened to be there? The answer will never be known, but I know for me because of them I was reminded of the beauty in this world, and to ever be thankful for the small things as they make our life more beautiful.
Huge thanks to @ssoutherlandphotography for this lovely photo.

Window Dressing

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I turned the corner heading down the path on my way to somewhere.
The path was busy, everyone rushing past, phones singing, voices conversing.
The mass continued on past you, unknowing, almost ignoring.
I too have ignored and lived only in my head.
Though what was different about today?
Was the sun angle differently touching the stone and brick?
Was my mind altered from last nights proclivities?
Was fate showing up? Why today?
The reason not known, but life altered forever is truthfully obvious.
I stepped onto the last path toward my destination, unknown that you were near.
The phone in his hand reflected the light directly under my eye, forcing a sudden but fateful turn away
from the direct sunlight.  There were two ways to turn my head, I went toward the shop display window directly parallel
to me.
There you are.
Standing in the window, gown fitting, stunningly gorgeous. I stop suddenly. Your body is aglow in the sunlight streaming
into the window, face radiant, blue ice eyes staring through me. Single braid running behind, arms perched, unmoving.
The gown so staggeringly beautiful as to adorn such a perfect specimen.
I stared at you until your eyes locked onto mine.
~Morgan
Image Credit: praisewedding.com

Why So Harsh, Why ( most ) Men Suck

Waking up in the morning can be a bitter pill.  Some days I wake up and look forward to the happiness of the day, but today everything sucks.

I hate that my hair seems to default to frizzy and broken.

I hate that my stomach has more fat this year than last year.

I hate that my ears are too big.

I hate that my face seems to break out when I’m stressed, or sad, or too hot.

I hate that I live alone.

I hate that my friends keep finding their ‘soulmate’.

I hate that all the clothes in my closet are horrible and I have nothing to wear!!!

I hate that I don’t have a boyfriend.

I hate that a number of months ago I thought I had a boyfriend but he wasn’t interested in the long term. Or was he just not interested? Or was I not interesting? Was I not pretty enough? Was I not funny enough? Do my knees look funny? Was I too prudish? WHAT WAS IT?

I hate that though I wasn’t in love, (yet?)

pinterest_girl_crying_black_whiteThat there were real possibilities. Or was it that there never was a possibility, and looking back why was I thinking there was?

I hate that I believe in marriage, but none of the boys ( yes boys ) have any reason to marry because all of us ‘normal’ girls are so desperate to find someone ( anyone ) that we end up doing and giving up our values and beliefs just to have someone near us.

 

 

I hate that this morning I have to get up, preen myself ( boys call them the 3 s’s ) do my hair, paint my nails, wear something presentable just so I get noticed.

BUT WAIT! WAIT YOU SAY! You don’t have to do that!!!!

I KNOW! I answer back.  I so so know.  Buuuuuuuut if I don’t, if I fall out of bed, leave my jammies on and plod around the house in my slippers, if I leave that broken nail broken, don’t hide my ugly toenails, wear the ugly closed foot sandals, or worse, wear the cute open toed strappy sandals, with the sloppy shorts and old t shirt, I find that the boys I attract are worse than the ones I was dating in the first place.

 

WHAT DO I DO????

I’m not horrible looking, but I’m not perfect.  I look at all the insta posts about blah blah get a new body blah blah. You’ll be happier blah blah blah!!! I even post on instagram ( shameless plug instagram.com/morganwerhen ) mostly with beautiful pictures, largely with happy women and/or brides. I find that men pictures are mostly too hulky or ‘look at me I’m Goliath and I can eat 5 steaks a day!’, or they’re so into themselves that I can’t possibly relate or want to relate. I DON’T NEED A GOLIATH, I JUST NEED SOMEONE.

 

I used to be pretty confident in myself, I was dating frequently, but as I turn the corner into my 30s I’m finding that I just want a man who loves me for who I am. Who will hold me when I’m sad, laugh with me, and largely someone I can get along with.  Is that so much to ask?

WHERE ARE YOU MAN????

Currently I don’t believe that man exists.  If he does or if I think I meet him, he definitely wants inside my panties, and he isn’t interested in commitment. Or he is interested in commitment but first lets get into my panties and then we can talk about the holding. I’m not sure if it’s me or society or it’s just that I’m not worth the time?

Last night I cried about it. This morning I’m plodding around my apartment in an old t-shirt.

Tonight I’ll preen and hang out with girlfriends and hopefully I’ll feel better.

~Morgan

Image Credit: Pinterest

Who Is This Person Staring Back at Me?

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My eyes opened suddenly, a rush of emotions and panic flooding my mind.  “Who am I” I thought.  “Where am I?” Laying on the bed I turned my head to attempt to look at my surroundings.  The room was dark, it smelled slightly musty but I smelled a floral scent mixed in with slightly damp, and cold feelings.  I moved my arms and legs, they felt different, like they haven’t been moved in while, but they all responded as if everything was fine.  I sat up, but felt a little stiff and slow.  There were a couple of windows in the room, they seemed large, but with hardly any light in the room I was struggling to see what or where I was.
Where was I? I felt calm, the panic was replaced by a feeling of excitement, but I didn’t know why?  I remembered going to bed at some point wearing my yellow sun dress, with a white hairpiece holding back my hair..  I remembered running in the grass with my friends as we would ride our bikes around a neighborhood?  The thoughts and memories started to flood in.  I was 12.  It was summer. The light wind would play with my brunette bob and blow it around my face, always forcing me to wrap the stray strands behind my right ear.  My mom always getting after me about picking up my dolls. My white strappy sandals left in the middle of room.
The light was starting to peak into the windows around the heavy blinds. I decided to try to stand up.  It went fine but I was surprised to feel hair falling at my back.  I habitually moved my hand to place it behind my ear. What? It cascades down my back? I grabbed hold of it. It was full of ‘body?’ why did I know that term? It smelled floral, like lilacs in the summer just before their peak. “Why is my hair so long?” I kept walking toward the window, slightly shocked that walking in a sundress would feel so constricting. Still reeling from these mixture of sensations that felt both new and familiar at the same time.
His name was Jordan. I remember a Jordan. That day, “why do I remember that day?” the sun was bright, shining through the small oak in our yard causing the shadows to dance on the house.  He lived across the street from us, though I remember it was a street where cars went back an forth. I remember standing at the curb and we were yelling back and forth about something. He was in a light blue t-shirt with muddy shorts.  His ‘race’ bike with the orange handle grips sitting next to him tossed on the ground, the kickstand shoving up a mound of grass and dirt next to it. “You have to come over today!” He was yelling.  “I can’t!” I yelled back.  The sun was hot, I could see he was sweating a little, his two front teeth gleaming as he moved his mouth.  “Why couldn’t I come over?” I asked my self?
Whoa!! I almost tripped on something on the floor. “What is that?” I felt something sliding next to me. The excitement also seemed to make me breathe harder.  Something is restricting my chest? “What??” I stop. “Just stand here, calm down” I think, that decision causes me to start relaxing a bit.  I was almost to the windows, for some reason it felt like opening the shade would allow me to understand why nothing makes sense.  I start to explore who or “what” I am. I immediately realize that I must be a woman, no longer 12, long long past. I feel below my waist and my breath heaves in a panic, but an excited twirl of happiness.  My pajamas seem to not be pajamas. I take both hands, and lean down at the waist. and it seems I have a dress on with a skirt full of luxuriant “where did that word come from” ruffles.  They cascade and follow my body well past my legs and around the floor.  This new body of mine is so confusing, but it feels like “me.”
Jordan kept yelling but the cars were too loud, the wind seemed to pick up and I remember the day feeling darker. I instinctively remember fixing my hair behind my ear, but there was a sound, a loud screeching sound.  Everything slows down in that moment, but I remember turning my head toward the noise.
I steadied myself in the room, the sun continued to push more of it’s yellow light through the windows. It was time to finish this slow walk and see where I was. Moving toward the windows again, taking daintier steps, I heard my dress swish and swirl as my legs bumped against the skirt. At the windows I could see two of them had blinds, the type I remember were in my room, wide wood slats that would pivot to hide the light, forcing streams to pour in at the edges. However, the middle window was different. It seemed to hold something smooth, or attached to the window. There was a little light, but it was forced only at the square edges of the window. The beams shot out like a line, almost a sign with no backlighting for the words that would be seen if the light could shine through.  I reached the wall, I felt what appeared to be cold brick, but the warmth from the other side was apparent. I moved my hand along the surface of the wall where the light could penetrate enough for my eyes to see my hand.  Whoa, again, my heart quickened! Fingers so long, rounded nails, perfectly manicured with a light pink detail. The sun danced off my nails as they shimmered. Then it caught my eye. I gasped! On my finger sat a ring with a diamond.
The sound was deafening! The wreck caused one vehicle start coming my way. I sat there frozen as a hunk of steel was rolling toward the curb, I could see the panic in the drivers eyes, mouth wide, words streaming out but I couldn’t hear. I did hear something, or wait, someone screaming. “Judith!!! Judith run! RUN!” It was Jordan.  He was screaming to run, but where? I turned away from the driver barreling toward me and tried to move my legs.  It was like they were filled with lead, like a dream where I was running out of a classroom realizing I forgot to put on pants, but I couldn’t move.  “I’m coming!” He yelled, I couldn’t see him, but his voice kept getting closer. I tried desperately to run but my legs were stuck, the car was still screeching towards me, and now I could smell burning rubber and smoke.
Something hit me. I remember that. But, it hit me from the side. Arms wrapped around me and I was “tackled?” I remember falling, fast, smacking my head, but there was a rush behind me, as dirt and grass and flying debris hit me and Jordan? “Jordan!” “Jordan tackled me and shoved me away!”
I sat there desperately trying to remember more.  I remember my room, noises, people surrounding me, I remember being carried, I remember hearing a siren.  I remember hearing words about Jordan, that he wasn’t answering, they were panicked. I remember closing my eyes. Nothing after that.
That foreign hand, with the large cut diamond moved over to pull up the blind. “It’s time to meet me” I think, “Judith is my name I believe, who is Judith and why does she have a ring on her hand?” I pulled up the blind and light streamed in, I quickly walked across the middle window and pulled up the other blind. The light instantly filled the room and my eyes blinked while attempting to adjust. There definitely was something on the center mirror, it appeared to be writing. I blinked again and gasped as I saw this room for the first time. Though, it felt familiar in a way, like I’ve been here before.
The bed I was in stood alone, but there was a framed photo of Jordan an I by the nightstand, I was in the yellow sundress, and he was just smiling at me. The sheets were white, but there were yellow notes posted everywhere. I couldn’t read them, but they had an order, and appeared slightly tattered, or well used. Turning toward the center window I saw what was pasted in the window. There attached somewhat permanently was a giant letter starting with the words  “Your name is Judith Winters, on July 24th 13 years ago you hit your head but you were saved from death my Jordan Reetherin. You need to read the letter by the mirror next to you to catch up on what has happened to you so you can move forward with your life from this morning on.
The feelings of panic started again, “I couldn’t remember anything since that accident! I’m standing here a woman and I have to re learn who I am.  I have a ring.” I turned toward the mirror and at that point is the first ( or thousandth ) time I met me.  I had long brunette hair, floating past my shoulders, I was wearing makeup, light pink lipstick and earrings adorned my ears. I was thin, but not gaunt, I had the body of a woman but only memories of a child. The person staring back at me was familiar with her body, but the mind was trying to wrap that fact with missing memories.  Who is this person staring back at me? The dress was gorgeous, my shoulder blades heaved in anticipation and fear as I removed the envelope from the far left of the mirror.  I opened the flap and removed the new letter, folded three times. It was long, very detailed, and hand written in a mans handwriting.
Dear Judith,
This is Jordan.  I love you, and today is our Wedding Day.
Image Credit: gabbytaangeles.tumblr.com

All of These are Important

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To love is to be alive
To be loved is to live
To care is to abundantly provide without expectation in return
To be cared for is humbling while desiring to return the same
To need is human
To be needed is fulfillment and care and love
Separate these all matter, but together they create
a life everyone desires.
Love, care, need, help, do, be. Live abundantly!
Image Credit: gabytaangeles.tumblr.com

Heels are Glorious

I was traipsing around various stores, loving all the things. Tops, rompers,  jumpsuits,  sun dresses.
I love that the sun excites me about stepping outside in that cute lacy tunic, hair not frizzy, makeup actually works and feeling like people around me see me as I feel.
The feeling comes so seldom, I have to write about it as soon as my mind agrees with my mirror!
I’ve often wondered what it was that magically transforms my feelings about me.
It’s the shoes. Actually, it’s the heels!
They’re sometimes impractical,  slightly not comfortable and mostly not for non gymnasts like me, but I love how they look on my feet. I even love walking into my closet and just staring at them imagining how they will look with my outfits that week!
I love that the right pair of shoes transforms my outfit from chic to lustrous. The perfect accessory is the right shoes. The little straps, chunky heel, cute toes, they all make it pop.
When it pops right I feel amazing.
Is it okay to admit this? I feel that society sometimes pressures me (us) not to be beautiful, to fit in and not to pop. I love shoes, I do, and I guess I’m not going along with the pressure. Beauty is a thing and I love to feel beautiful.