What to Wear to the Apocalypse?

Happy New Year! For the first post of the year, I’m honored to turn the Momo blog over to guest writer and Momo Girl Leslie Haynes.

Leslie shows her stripes

Momo lovers, I am pissed. Royally. Proletariatly. I’m pissed that a man who brags about grabbing pussies will soon be the President of these United States. That’s why I’m grabbing mine and heading to the other Washington for the Women’s March to defend the rights of woman and the rights of other marginalized groups.

What’s a mother-loving fashion-activist to wear to this event? If nothing else, we PNWers know about layers. I’m pulling out my favorite Momo pieces. I’ve set aside a black Cop-copine top with metal snaps up one side. When I tried it on at the FLASH sale, I felt like a Warrior Princess. So that’s a must. My father, Sterling, gifted me a Momo certificate for Christmas, and I vowed to spend it on something extravagant. With the help of my buddy, Chris Higashi, and two Momo men, I decided on the Vintage Kimono wrap pants handmade in Kyoto. Sterling loves an extravagant gesture and a good story. Two birds, one pair of pants. I already adore the swish of the legs and know, from experience, that a pair of Tabbisocks underneath will help me keep warm in a storm and protect my lady parts. 

I just signed up for The Peace Ball: Voices of Hope and Resistance to be held at my favorite eatery, Busboys and Poets. For that, the Azul pinstriped onesie is the ticket. It’s not really a onesie. It is an elegant jump suit. Think coveralls for the martini set. In it, I feel free and strong. The last time I visited this item at Momo, I hummed the first verse of Helen Reddy’s “I am woman, hear me roar in numbers too big to ignore, and I know too much to go back and pretend. Cuz I’ve heard it all before, and I’ve been down there on the floor. No one’s ever going to keep me down again.” Ahem. Where was I? Ah, yes. Outfits. I’ll pair that with a dramatic Metalicus sweater that I bought years ago, when Momo was just a baby. It’s seen better days, but, hey, haven’t we all?! I’m going to pack the palazzo pants from Dress to Kill that I splurged on right before a big interview, with thanks to Lala for the advice and support. They hide a multitude of sins. I didn’t get the job, but — once again — the pants are the prize. Recycled cashmere fingerless gloves? Check. Girlband? Double check. Both matte and fuzzy versions. I’m still not quite sure how to wear them, but I know they keep my ears warm. All in stock now at Momo.

My palate is Seattle black and grays. But this time I’m adding a bit of hot pink, the better to go with my Pussy Hat. Do you know about the Pussy Hat Project? LA-based DIYers have mobilized knitters and enlisted yarn stores across the nation to make enough hats for all marchers. But Seattle is SOLD OUT. So I had to find a friend who knits. I put the call out. First up, Lala. She worked her network and directed me to Alicia at Churchmouse Yarns on Bainbridge Island. (Pussy Hat from a Churchmouse. Tee hee.) Alicia committed to making 12 hats. Numbers 1 to 11 were claimed. I was Lucky #12. She emailed me with mouse-like speed. “And before you ask ... I’m not charging for any of my hats. My payment will be to see people (including my dad!) wearing pink hats and marching in solidarity. That will make me happy and proud, and that's payment enough...” Didn’t she want some Apple Butter, my specialty? A home-cooked meal? Nope. She wants me to pay it forward. And I shall. Then Roz, a friend and forever educator in Portland, bit on a Facebook ask. “I can knit a scarf,” she said. “And the Pussy Hat pattern is basically a modified mini scarf.” She sent me a photo of her work in progress: from her hand to my head (and heart). 

Momo lovers, I am no longer pissed. Instead, I am basking in all this woman love. Go get yours. And then march!

Churchmouse knitter, Alicia