About me
Strangely, I seem to be able to best describe myself through the evolution of my fashion sense regarding hats. A large cloud of dust and debris hit my face as my nimble hands dug through the heap of garments in my attic. Slowly, a worn cream sack uncovered itself--a laundry bag.
I saw red, such a scorching hot red.
On a hot Japanese evening, I sat on my bike, sweltering in my red oversized hello kitty cap with ear flaps. My inquisitive eyes, too big on my tiny visage, stared awestruck as families raised their carp-shaped Koinobori flags. A herd of men large enough to be sumo players gobbled their chimaki down, flecks of rice flying from their mouth. A local takoyaki vendor beckoned me to sample his delicious savory treat. Throughout it all, my red hello kitty cap shielded me from the bombarding hustle and bustle, but not from the rich culture. Living and traveling all over the world from the moment of my birth taught me the importance of diversity, adaptability and an open mind. With these characteristics, I have been always able to communicate with whomever I meet, regardless of their language or culture. This hello kitty cap is my base, and rightfully so. Not only did it smother me with warmth and support through the tender years of my childhood, but it also established the cocktail of morals on which I grew upon.
I saw green, such a cool-toned olive green.
My artsy, olive beret swayed in the icy German breeze as I stood on my tip toes to shut the gold-framed window of my traditional fachwerk house before sitting down on my toasty leather piano stool. My olive beret bounced along animatedly with my head as I played Chopin’s waltz in C-sharp minor. My feet tapped the pedal in perfect synchronization with my agile fingers. But I digressed, for my hands deviated from the romantic melody to mesh with the rowdy tunes of the Linus and Lucy Peanuts theme song, crafting an unconventional masterpiece that would surely give Mozart a heart attack. I took a deep bow, dramatically tipping my beret before brazenly announcing, “Now let’s do that with my toes!” to my nonexistent audience. As an eight-year-old fifth grader, I was well versed in unconventionality. This beret facilitated my quirkiness and provided me with the courage to imagine beyond the limits and embody the persona of whoever I want to be, even if it is some twisted concoction of Beethoven and Victor Frankenstein. Here is the embodiment of my curiosity and thirst for knowledge and adventure. Here is the explanation for my desire to sail into uncharted seas and map out the course for others. Whether it be eccentric piano improvisations or unicycle riding, my beret has been worn through it all.
I saw grey, such a velvety…
Wait how did that get in there? I stare perplexed at my beloved grey fedora that had a gargantuan black bow at the center. It’s perfect, or at least perfect to me, adding just the right touch of flamboyance to any outfit. The fedora is mature and sophisticated, without losing the adaptability of the hello kitty cap or the artistry of the beret—a balanced hodgepodge of key elements that define who I am. It mirrors the development of my logical and rational mind.
The laundry bag still has plenty more space that demands to be filled, and I am eager to broaden my repertoire of eclectic hats that will further define who I am. I will look upon this sack in the future with a sense of wholeness, because I know that this laundry bag is me.