Warm... Hot... Boiling... Skirts!
-Fashion rants from Cookie Goddess

This past week was very warm in the puddle. Our hero worked 4-days, teaching tadpoles how to paint the paper, and not themselves. After work today, our hero went into town to run some errands. Even though she was pressed for time, she ran home first to get out of her work clothes. A quick shower, a glance into the closet, and…hopa! A skirt was pulled out. For those readers who do not know our hero all that well, she rarely wears skirts. In fact, I can think of one (and I repeat, ONE) occasion when our hero wore a skirt outside of Friday night within the past year and a half. (Friday nights are a special night in the pond; frogs gather to pray, eat dinner and schmooze, and therefore dress exceptionally nicely.)

Our hero has an aversion from skirts. There are a few reasons for this, all dating back to her high-school days. There are some events that shape a frog’s outlook on the world. Among these are anthro classes, and interactions with new, different people. When meeting such people, a frog learns much about themselves in relation to the world they live in. They exit their protected puddle and meet frogs that may live in close proximity to them, but ideologically are worlds apart. Our hero first encountered this in 9th grade. She signed up for an art class at the nearby museum. There was a limited amount of time between the end of school and the beginning of art, and our hero would catch the bus right away, with her backpack still on her. Our hero attended a religious, all-girls school where skirts were mandatory. Upon arriving at the museum, she discovered she was the sole skirt-bearer. As the year progressed, she found it very difficult to make friends. Any conversation with her classmates dealt with our hero’s school, friends, lifestyle and usually concluded with shock. The classmates enjoyed the peek into my “exotic” lifestyle, and that was enough for them.
My amazing teacher lured me back for a second year, which was allotted a different time slot, much later in the evening. Our hero had plenty of time to go home, dip in the puddle, eat dinner and go to art. She also had the luxury of taking off her dreaded school clothes, and dressing in something much more comfortable. Lo and behold, friendships were created almost immediately! (Some even last until this day).

In a country [Israel] that is divided among multiple lines, it is almost impossible to not categorize people. While political opinions are not externally visible, religion is. A skirt says a lot here. The length and style supplement the “religious” category, defining where one lives, what school they attend and what they will do after graduating high school, whether join the military or do national service.

Back then I was bothered more that I was defined as religious than the fact that I was being defined at all. Now, the opposite is true. It is not my classmate’s fault; it’s society that encourages categorizing. (Although a friend once took a class focusing on people’s need to categorize things).

The next part of my aversion from skirts is personality-based. I am not a skirt person. It’s very simple. I do not feel comfortable in them, and do not even shop for them. Of course, my personality was probably cast under the influence of what was disclosed above.

One more word about skirts: I have a friend who finds long skirts sexy. Yeah, it’s true. While staying with me for Shabbat he commented how he never sees me in skirts, and likes them. Sure, people like kinky stuff and this is defiantly the least of it. Another friend tells me that growing out my hair will help me find a nice froggie to make my price. No, I say. The ultimate prince will accept me for what I am, shaved head and all. If my friend finds skirts sexy, cool. I hope he gets to see many long-skirted girls in his lifetime. (Oink, oink.) But, I will not wear skirts because it’s what girls do. This is who I am: someone with an aversion from skirts. Sorry, take it or leave it.