This morning, I was listening to Bonnie Raitt talk about the impression that Gidget made on her as a girl. She talked about how Gidget was dismissed by the boy surfers until she taught herself to ride the waves, at which point they all admired her — and how she loved her “let me show you” and “I’ll do it on my own” ethic. I was struck by Raitt’s clarity on this point. Gidget’s character gave Raitt a telic shape, a story to measure herself against, and it wasn’t a nuanced borrowing.
This made me think: Who were my earliest chosen role models? (I say “chosen” because I am more curious today in examining the characters to which I was drawn versus the women in my immediate life.) What stories was I writing about them and, by extension, myself, across points of parity and disparity?
My earliest fictional role models were Nancy Drew, Harriet the Spy, and Cam Jansen. None of these heroines possessed supernatural powers; they used observation and intellect to solve mysteries. It thrilled me to think that just by paying attention, I, too, might get to the bottom of things. I would sit in the hedges in the backyard of my childhood home, taking notes in a marble-covered notebook on the benign comings and goings of neighbors and traffic, waiting for my first clue. I would also peck out amateur mysteries on the typewriter at my best friend’s home on Cathedral Avenue in NW DC. Her father was a journalist for the Melbourne newspaper The Age, and he kept it in the sun porch and encouraged us to use it. My parents also had a typewriter that I loved to use, but it was an old-fashioned portable Royal Senior Companion, and for some reason I found his much more writerly, perhaps because it didn’t have the case, and was much bigger. (And also, it belonged to A Real Writer.) So when I say that I loved Nancy Drew, I am also saying I loved Carolyn Keene,* and their* precious ways of imagining. I sensed that I might find better luck inventing my own stories than solving them in the real world. Funny, that: I was disappointed in the lack of recorded drama in my backyard, and found more pulp in my imaginings; nowadays, I find I must write to make clean and quiet sense of the tilt-a-whirl wilderness of living.
A little later in life, I would fall madly in love with Jo March. I lacked her intrepid and bohemian edge, but I related so deeply to the spark inside her, to her surging creative ambition and the way it throttled the very real everyday sensations of smallness and containment (hers more legitimate than mine). It was a slow love affair, though. I initially figured myself as Meg in the family — the eldest and most responsible. This was the model to which I had learned to aspire in my own life; I was praised for it, and I found purpose in it, too. It was only later that I began to unpack something: I wanted to be Jo, and yet I was in some way forcing myself to align with Meg’s prototype. I think in the end I was and remain a split between the two, but both gave me strong models for self-cultivation, and forced me to ask why I was holding myself to one set of standards when I felt called to another. I now keep a sticky note with the words JO MARCH on it on my computer; I continue to find her the pluckiest Calliope when I am sitting down to write.
Writing this out, I think: aren’t we lucky to live in a world of books?! My God, the way these words shaped my sense of self. I single-handedly credit Judy Blume with preparing me for puberty, and Frances Hodgsen Burnett for helping me make sense of a childhood ailment that required surgery when I was seven or eight. I treasured her novel The Secret Garden, and its story of children helping one another recover in various ways. The notion of recovery in general when you are a child and accustomed to moving freely and without constraint is bizarre; I had to spend a week in the hospital, and the day I was discharged, my parents put off small fireworks in the front driveway because it was the fourth of July. I had to sit in a small kitchen chair on the asphalt while my siblings ran around with sparklers. The tragedy of this! I wrote my trivial sorrow right into the scene where Colin stands in the garden for the first time. I also loved the book’s motif of finding a hidden place where I could be alone and be a caretaker to the earth, and at one point had two small toads I kept as pets (!) that I named Mary and Colin. Ah, these writings — ! Even now, I am startled at the heft of their impression.
Tell me, Magpies — who were your earliest fictional role models?
Post-Scripts.
*Carolyn Keene was a shared pseudonym for several different authors of the Nancy Drew series! I learned this out later in life, and was shocked!
+Related: some of the earliest books and movies that shaped us.
+A random musing on John Mayer. It turns out a lot of us have things to say about him!
+Image at top via.
Shopping Break.
+OMG — this Gap set! It is SO chic. Very Staud-like! And, as of time of writing, 40% off. Also love these soft horseshoe jeans in the cream and mojave tan colors, this denim vest, and this Doen-inspired top. All 40% off…!
+Excuse me, this gorgeous classic cable knit sweater is on sale from $498 to $150 in two perfect shades.
+These $24 lunchboxes look SO MUCH like the ones from State (which are twice as much!)
+Chic scalloped trays at a great price. I also love these patterned trays for adding a little pop of printand color to a side table or coffee table.
+Obsessed with this oversized button-down in the red stripe! With white jeans, absolutely perfect.
+And this sweet peter pan collar white blouse, too! J. Crew is coming in hot for end-of-summer-to-early-fall.
+This under-$200 cardigan (selling fast…!) reminded me of the pricier, trendy styles from The Great. (Still contemplating this horse one…). Somewhere between the two prices: this sailboat-motif shawl collar! So fun for LDW, layered over some shorts and a tank top.
+BTW, you can also rent sweaters from The Great for a season at RTR! Clever way to wear a statement sweater for a season without the full investment.
+I just stocked up on socks for my kids for the season ahead. They LOVE their Bombas and always scramble for them when they’re out of the wash, so I got them a few novelty sets there, and I also got some of these for my daughter in the fun, Bombas-inspired fruit prints. My son has the ones with the athletic stripes and they’re a good quality relative to price.
+Cute custom initial totes for under $100.
+Perfect striped area rug for a small space. Feels so beachy and happy! Another great home buy in the same hue: this scalloped slipper chair (under $200!)
+Our favorite belted cardigan, now in a beautiful midi blue. I own this in the oatmeal color and she is perfect. Looks great belted and buttoned over a simple white tee, or open over a dress!
+WOW this cashmere cable knit bomber…! Dreamy!
+Fun statement jacket.
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