Legacy Writing 365:65

When I was a college freshman living in a dorm, it was a rare weekend when everyone on my hall was around. There were either sporting events, sorority commitments, dates, or weekend trips home to keep us busy. But now and then we’d somehow all end up in town and at loose ends on the weekend, and that’s when the silliness took over.

Fall semester–our first one at Alabama–Debbie M, who would later be my roommate off and on through the rest of my undergraduate years and graduate school–roomed with a girl named Lynda. Lynda had the deepest Southern accent and was such a girly girl. She had tons of clothes, and I was sitting in their room one night when she was trying to put together an outfit.

“You have some really crazy clothes,” I told her, and she agreed.

I don’t know if it was her or me who came up with The Idea: Fashion Show!

Six to eight of us plundered our closets and drawers and threw all our clothes in a pile in one room. Then I styled the tackiest outfits I could for Debbie to model. Someone else would deal with hair and too much makeup. Lynda used a hairbrush as a fake microphone to describe the wonders of the designs. Vicky would play guitar, and everyone else just sat, mouths agape, in Kim’s and Robin’s room as Debbie paraded one fashion disaster after another in front of us. Oh, and there was popcorn. Because we all see Anna Wintour shoveling that in her face at Fashion Week, right?

For the lodge after a day on the slopes!

Evening wear! You can see that Jeanette and Kim are dazzled.

Debbie was a great sport to be my Barbie doll. When I was looking for these photos, I found a shot of the first time we’d have celebrated our birthdays after meeting each other (we were born the same year, three weeks and an ocean apart).

I don’t know who brought the cake back to the dorm–it’s clear it’s home-baked, so it could have been me or anyone else. (If it came from me, my mother would have baked it.) But I’m pretty sure this is Debbie’s birthday, not mine, because she’s getting The Divine Miss M (on eight-track–shut up!) which she loved, and I think that may be a pair of crazy-patterned panties, another of her trademarks. (Yeah, dorm mates all know what everybody’s underwear looks like, but we don’t have pillow fights.)

March 5 is Debbie’s birthday, and I wish her a very happy one. We’ve celebrated many more apart than together, but it’s never mattered. Our friendship has never been limited by distance or years between meetings. I love her so much and know she loves me still.

March 5 is also the birthday of our nephew John–I’m sure he’ll have a happy one, because nobody goes at life with more energy and humor. He probably isn’t having a fashion show, though.