for a true Chicagoan.
A woman approached me at the crosswalk, as I often do to people when I’m lost in the city.
“You from around here?” with a soft accent. Her eyes were large– somewhat distraught. She asked me about a cafe.
“No,” I smiled and shook my head. “But good luck!”
And then burst into glee, when the light changed and she went on her way.
Someone thought I was local! This has happened twice now– the first time was a year or so ago. And that time, I actually could answer the question! I really felt like something then.
I know it’s what I was wearing that made her approach me. I had on a long khaki skirt, a black turtleneck, and a beige sweater with pom-poms given to me by a friend who is the same size. It’s the type of sweater a grandmother would wear. I had an orange headband on also, with a flower. A couple costume jewelry bracelets.
I looked artistic. And artistic fashion is distinctly Chicago.
Even better, I had just come from a writer’s workshop.
I felt more like a writer than ever.