Last month, some girlfriends and I took the train from Seattle to Portland (home of Powell’s City of Books and Voodoo Donuts and a Living Room movie theater and loads of other awesomeness), and as we ate and shopped and shopped and shopped (Oregon has no sales tax) our way through the aforementioned awesomeness, I was struck by how different my friends and I are when it comes to taste and personal preference.
In drinks alone, our tastes were varied. I love cocktails that involve citrus, simple syrup and a sugared martini rim. Janna likes a dark porter. Mari likes a martini. Amy prefers something with a bit of bubble in it, be it beer or champagne.
Our fashion styles are equally varied. I gravitate toward more traditional, tailored clothing, tops and bottoms that will still be in style beyond next Tuesday. Yet I also have a hard time resisting the siren’s call of a cute vintage hat or anything that can make me (someone who looks nothing like Audrey Hepburn) look a little more like Audrey Hepburn.
My friends would feel uncomfortable and dull in my outfits, but they appreciate that my style is my style. If I try on a dress that makes me look like the Duchess of Frumpville, they will let me know. If they see something on the rack that “looks like Sarah/Audrey Hepburn” they will let me know. They will not allow me to walk around wearing a dowdy outfit OR a vintage hat better suited for Elton John or Winston Churchill.
Yes, my circle of trusted advisers understands my tastes are different from their own, but my advisers also know it’s their responsibility to give me honest feedback when I ask their opinion . . . or even when I haven’t asked their opinion. I love that in a friend, a partner, a husband. It’s a sign of a true friendship, one built on respect.
As writers, we are doomed without a similar group of advisers. Not just a little doomed. Totally and completely doomed.
Why? [Read more…]