Faeries

It's no mystery to anyone I know irl that I love dressing up. I love the fae. This is a shot of my bridesmaids and I from my actual wedding day:



As you can see, my wings are quite expansive. So much so, that when we went into the roughest pub in town on my hen's night, I had to wear someone else's wings so I wouldn't knock anyone out! (Let me tell you, those wings created quite the stir!) Plus, my dress there? That's green. How many people do you know get married in green?!

So. Imagine my boss coming to me, asking if I wanted to dress up like a green fairy (note the change in spelling if you will) for a charity event. Now, there was a little bit of squealing and jumping up and down in agreement. No mention of the date. This event is happening on Friday. The day before St Patrick's Day.

Here's where I get a little...tense. Without going too much into my spiritual beliefs, St Patrick's Day makes me sad to the roots of my pagan soul. I generally wear black in mourning on St Patrick's Day for my pagan ancestors and really think about religious persecution and what it meant then; and now. It's a day of reflection for me.

I didn't realise the date you see. I was too dense to make the connection. The commitment was made too quickly. So we're going to be green fairies on Friday for a good cause. We're all wearing similar clothing and wings and such. (However, I cannot wear my wedding wings - I would poke some child's eye out!) I will raise money for cancer, but I will not celebrate. To other people it's not spiritual, it's not political, it's a chance to be green and drunk. I'll play the part, then return to my home for a bit of quiet meditative time.

My skirt looks good, I must say.