I found a Cheeto (Cheeti? Cheeta? What is the singular form of Cheetos, anyhow?) in my scarf yesterday. Naturally, I ate it. No sense wasting a perfectly tasty snack, despite the orange badge of shame on the fabric.
Honestly, this type of mortification disaster LOVELY SURPRISE happens to me a lot. Because I constantly wear scarves. I love them. Everything about them. The way they warm me up. The way they caress my neck. The way they gently lay across my chest. The way they feel when my wrists are tied to the headboard.
It’s possible I might be a bit obsessed with them. Beyond keeping you warm and cozy as a shot of fireball at a PTA meeting, there are so many benefits:
- They add a splash of color to your outfit (and take the emphasis off of any unwashed hair and unmade face).
- They hide stains on your shirt, double chins, and the fact that you’re not wearing a bra.
- They always fit. No matter how much chocolate you ate in the closet while hiding from your kids.
- You can store snacks in them. Apparently.
But there are a few guidelines for wearing scarves that you should know.
Do: Treat your scarves well. You don’t need to talk to them all KonMari style, but do take care of them.
Don’t: Wear them while vacuuming. I did this once while also breaking in a new pair of high heels. The resulting flailing and falling and crashing and wrestling was worthy of an I Love Lucy episode.
Do: Check your scarves for stray food throughout the day. Just give them a discreet shake after each meal. You can decide whether to eat or discard any scraps you may find.
Don’t: Wear scarves while cooking on a gas range. They can light on fire and then ignite your hair when you frantically remove the flaming accessory from your body. (Ask me how I know.)
Do: Organize your scarves for easy access. I have two special hangers—just for my scarves. One is for the winter (hide-the-egg-nog-stains) scarves; the other is for the summer (hide-the-sangria-stains) ones.
Don’t: Wear them while organizing the bathroom or unclogging the toilet. If one end of your scarf takes a nose dive into the toilet while you’re plunging, it’s amazing how quickly you can start choking as the fabric becomes one with the clog. ASK ME HOW I KNOW.
Do: Wash your scarves every so often. When the dog starts licking obsessively on the fabric, it’s time for a cleaning. (This is true for any article of clothing, by the way, including yoga pants.)
Don’t: Wear them while picking up dog poop. One end will inevitably land on the shit. That is the antithesis of washing. (Much to Suburban Haiku’s dismay, I find that infinity scarves are infinitely easier to keep clean. And unvacuumed. And unplunged.)
Do: Learn a few different ways to tie your scarves. I’m a fan of the Simple Loop (because, lazy). At the very least, have a giggle at the names of the various scarf-tying methods when you realize they sound like sex positions. (That’s not just me, right? RIGHT?!)
Don’t: Be like Mr. Foxy and just haphazardly throw it on your shoulders.
I call that the Fuck Knot.
Photo Credit: rpm1 / 123RF Stock Photo
14 Responses
I love that you are in danger of injuring yourself with your clothing. It makes me feel normal. or at least more normal.
Okay, fine. I feel not alone.
We are two peas in a pod.
Clearly I need to go buy myself some scarves.
CLEARLY.
I am also a scarf wearer and have had the dog shit scarf as an accessory more than once. I need infinity scarves because I HAVE to wear a scarf walking the dog and I have to pick up after him. Damn dog even makes me do laundry.
Infinity scarves are the BEST. No matter what Suburban Haiku says. (I too have had dog shit scarf on more than one occasion.)
Thanks for warning me of the hazards of scarf wearing! I’m way too clumsy for this look. Stay safe out there.
You too. xoxo
Mr Foxy is clearly very boring…
I have a few scarves I never wear. I might pull one out now.
They can be so much fun, if you know what I mean. 😉
I love my scarfs so much that I give them names.
For example, Mr. Soup Scarf. He’s the dark scarf I always wear when I eat pho at the Vietnamese restaurant down the street. I’m not classy/competent/coordinated enough to consume broth-y noodles with chopsticks without managing a lot of chest-area splashback, so Mr. Soup Scarf covers that region and absorbs any would-be stains and my shirt stays clean.
Food + fashion = win/win/win.
You’re my hero, Bekah. Seriously.
I own a gazillion scarfs, but I have a brain imbalance when it comes to tying them up. It’s like I have scarf dyslexia, and that drives me nucking futs!
Those videos saved me. Seriously.