There's No Escaping It

I mentioned in my last post that I'm becoming more and more left wing. I do, of course, live in the USA, where the political spectrum skews so far right that I look like a raging communist in comparison, but even in little old NZ I think it'd be safe to say that I'm definitely a dirty hippie when it comes to politics.

This almost certainly has something to do with some of the most influential people I know - my parents. I'm a lot like them, which isn't surprising to anyone but me, because when I was younger I devoted a decent amount of time to vocally swearing to never be anything like their embarrassing selves. A wasted effort - I should have just kept quiet and enjoyed all the amazing things they gifted me and my brothers with.

Things like growing up in such a sensational environment. The house I grew up in wasn't fancy, but it was in a prime location, on a quiet road two minutes walk from a calm, tranquil beach (and fancy when you have three healthily destructive children seems unnecessarily punitive). One entire side of our house looked out over the water. Binoculars were kept on the kitchen windowsill, not for nefarious purposes, but so my father could get a closer look at any boats that may be sailing past. I wish I had a photo, but a Google image search brought nothing up except for a whole lot of photos of houses and landmarks that I recognize almost viscerally. I can do a photo of 'my' beach:

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That could almost be me running down there. It's not, of course, because I don't do that and I'm pretty certain that's a man, or a woman with really long legs.

You will note some boats on the water, and that I mentioned boats up above also. Boats are kind of a big thing in my family. My dad is a boatbuilder, and his dad was a boatbuilder, and his dad was a boatbuilder...it goes way back, I think to before my father's family even settled in New Zealand. We had lots of boats when I was growing up, sometimes at the same time, but mostly not because my mum objected to having boats all over the place. I liked sailing okay, but I was never really into it, which I think made my dad a bit sad. My mum never used to love it, either, but they recently lived on a boat for a couple of years, so I'm guessing she adapted.

Sometimes I want to go back to my younger self and slap her, for not realizing what she had. I was taught to sail when before I was 10, and had the opportunity to sail whenever I wanted - and I didn't care. Now that I pretty much never get the chance to get on the water, it's something I'm mad keen on. Not that I can - I've forgotten almost all I ever learned, apart from some random things that will not serve me well at all if I ever find myself alone and in charge of a yacht.

What I can do, however, is dress the part. Nautical-styled fashion is one of my very favorite looks. Not so much this:

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As anything striped, navy, white, red, or anything that could reasonably be described as crisp. Things like this:

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Or this:

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Or this:

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Or accessories, like this.

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H1 is firm in his conviction that we're not getting a boat, no matter how much I nag and try to convince him that the city of New York would be more than happy for us to moor it on the East River. To be fair, he can't sail either, so even if we had a boat all we could do is sunbathe on it and pay the fines we would no doubt incur for keeping it moored on the East River. He is, however, tolerant of the fashion side, which is lucky because I own a variation on every single piece I posted above (or, in the case of the top and the necklace, the exact piece. In different colors). My reasoning is sane - I figure he will either come around to the idea of owning a boat one day (in which case I will already own appropriate clothing) or one day we will live closer to my parents, and I will be able to make my dad happy by not only going sailing with him, but dressing the part. It's a long game.