Skip to content

I Pick Purple

Out of all the rows that I dragged my finger tips across – the kaleidoscope of pinks and reds, the eclectic blues and flashy greens, and what appeared to be every orange hue captured from a summer sunset – my heart landed right upon the shades of purple.

Always calming.

Always familiar.

I chose a simple, flat, yet elegant lilac to paint my toenails.

I’ve loved the colour purple ever since I was a little girl. My mom used to make me purple dresses from her sewing machine, the one with the funny steel gas pedal. She would let me give it a try sometimes. I was like a born NASCAR driver at that sewing machine. My heart began to pound with my fingertips daintily hanging on to the frayed edges of the fabric.

One, two, frrree…

GO!

I pressed my foot right to the floor.

Then I’d watch the fabric rip right through the machine. The thread would spin wildly on it’s spool pin.

I maniacally laughed while my mom cursed at me to “Get your effing foot off the pedal!”

Funny, not much has changed in my driving and she makes for one hell of a horrible backseat driver.

My mom had such magical talent with sewing dresses. I say magical because that woman could throw the best twirls into the ends of any skirts. I’d dance around in my grandparents kitchen using the skills I’d learn in ballet class. Using the tips of my toes I’d go in for one big massive twirl, feeling whatever wind was in the kitchen kick up the skirt and the hideous mullet my mom made me wear.

“You can see her drawers,” my grandpa would grumble.

Those particular skirts were automatically designated as “play only skirts.”

Some people grow out of their favourite things. Like ketchup chips used to be my absolute favourite chips until my sister ate a bowl and then jumped back and forth on our beds for like a half hour. I told her to stop, but what happens when an older sibling tells a younger sibling to stop? They do it more. So she carried on for another 3 hours or something annoying like that until she barfed all over our 1980’s blue shag carpet.

Killed ketchup chips for me.

But I still adore purple.

So much so that I made my bridesmaids wear it.

When you pick people to stand in your wedding, you carefully pick out your favourite people. The ones you love most. And when I had picked them to stand in my wedding I thought that we would be friends forever – you know, kind of like one of those early prepubescent Justin Bieber songs you’d hear on the radio.  I’m sure he’s sung a song about BFF’s. I don’t really know. What I do know is that if I was his mom, I’d be worried. I’d call him up in the wee hours of the morning:

“Justin, stop being so disrespectful. Quit peeing on everything. Are you eating enough? I love you. Also, put your shirt on. And what are you singing in Despacito? PS. I Beliebe in you.”

I’d always tell him that I Beliebe in him…

Where was I?

Ah, Bieber, bridesmaids.

Time changes people.

Bieber has changed. I’ve changed. My bridesmaids have changed.

I was 23 years old when I got married and we all had a lot of growing up to do. College, university, buying homes, boyfriends, breakups, marriages, babies, moving, blazing trails in new provinces or different cities miles and miles away…

We’ve all drifted apart.

I wish that we didn’t. They were my favourite.

Sometimes, like now when I feel lost in this space, I need that tribe of chicks to stabilize my thinning soul. Like I need all of them to just grab me out of my house and slam me in our old watering hole or even in a coffee shop somewhere.

We would just drink and laugh about how stupid high school was and how miraculous it was we made it out alive.

 

Then we’d pause and reflect upon our sagging boobs.

And laugh some more.

Some people grow out of their favourite things but I never grew out of loving the colour purple.

I will always love purple.

 

Just like I will always love the people I chose to stand in my wedding. 

 

I do thank them for the wonderful years we had together and the memories that I now share with my Chicken Little. Not all. Dear sweet Jesus, not all.

 

8 Comments

  1. Love!
    Love!
    Love this so damn much.
    You, Kimberly, ALWAYS twist my heart a little, make me smile, relate, laugh, choke up.
    ….all because of the color purple.

    xxx from MN.

  2. What a lovely post. I share your affection for the color and am entertained by your anecdotes and personal history. Excellent writing.

  3. Oh man, another post that feels like you jumped into my brain. I have a special place in my heart for purple too. And I have a special place in my heart for the ladies that stood up in my wedding too, but aside from my sister-in-law, we’ve all drifted apart too. I often joke with my husband that 11 years later I think our wedding party would look quite different. So many people in and out of our lives. But we have each other and now we have our Ollie. So somehow it evens out in my mind a little bit. Love.

  4. Hi Kimberly! I love this post. Your writing is not only excellent but engaging. Of course life constantly changes and we move forward as to not get stuck in the past. But I think it is vital to reflect upon our past (and those great people in purple)! Looking forward to your next post.

  5. So beautiful, and purple is my favorite color 🙂

  6. Purple was my Mom’s favorite color and I automatically thought of her when I saw this post. She always choose purple. I can so relate about your bridesmaids. I truly only speak to one on occasions now. One I am not sure where she is as we both got married, moved etc. there is comfort in knowing that others have had the same experience!

  7. Love! I’ve struggled with maintaining and making friends as an adult. I have no room in my life for bullshit or drama, so that drastically thins the herd and its lonely. You’ll catch me a few times a year say when I’m feeling depressed that I just wish I had a best girlfriend that I could spill my soul to, and be told that everything is going to be okay. It’s shitty how the passage of time, things and people drift apart….

    Totallllllly hear you… *hugs*

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *