A Good Moment

I rarely have good clothes moments. You know, when you are wearing just the right thing at the right moment and you feel good. And, well, cute.

One perfect fall day in college, a boy offered to help me write a paper for my French literature class. He met me after school to take me home on the back of his motorbike. I climbed on and we roared down the hill to the old neighborhood south of campus, where I lived in a red brick house with a wide front porch.

I was wearing my black watch plaid kilt, a turtleneck and a navy blue sweater, tights and loafers, so I had to sit side saddle, my arms wrapped around his waist. 

I was living that life, at least for a moment. A good, good moment.