The Day I Take Off the Sushi Skirt

This is going back a little, but there was a song called "Kawaikute Gomen" (Sorry for Being Cute) that was a bit of a hit around the year before last.
I actually quite like that song. I even have it on my iTunes.

The shrewdness of a girl who proudly declares what she likes.
I like girls who are greedy about what they want to wear and what they want to do without worrying about what those around them think, and as a middle-aged woman, I want to be like that too.
I also think that the mindset of "I want to be my own ally" is something all of humanity should acquire.
If a hesitation doesn't help anyone, it doesn't create anyone's happiness, so you shouldn't do it.

However.
Lately, I feel like my clothes are somehow strange.
Don't say "Now of all times?!" and just listen. I'm not talking about "weird clothes," I'm talking about the feeling that "my clothes are weird."
There are more and more things that just don't feel right.
I'm deeply moved that this is the "the clothes I've worn until now suddenly don't suit me anymore" phenomenon that visits you in your 30s.

It's not that I want to look younger than I am.
Sure, I'd hate to be told, "You're 38? I thought you were older!" but I'm not trying to wear the same clothes as girls in their teens and 20s.
How should I put it, I want the composure of an adult woman.
This is no longer about how I look to others, but entirely a problem of my own.
Simply put, it's a story about the desire to be a good woman who is smart and beautiful, starting from her appearance.

Is it time to ditch the flashy patterns?

Has the time finally come to break away from the sushi skirt?
If I take off the sushi skirt, what should I wear?
Since I was a teenager, I've only ever done what I liked—Lolita, Gothic, Punk, Kimono, vintage clothes, flashy patterns, and sushi prints—so I have no idea what a good 38-year-old woman in society wears.
I understand that women wearing sushi skirts are in the minority.

I went to the hair salon over the weekend.
I usually just read the books I bring with me at the salon, but for that one time, I wanted to know what a good woman in society is like, so I abandoned the Yukio Mishima I had brought along and flipped through the magazines they provided.
Oggi. Simple and basic.
CLASSY. Neat and clean style.
Bijin Hyakka. Feminine.
Nothing feels right at all. There's nothing I want to wear. My desire to shop isn't being stirred.

In other words, I don't think I like them.
The clothes that appear in these magazines.
What should a woman who used to read "Gothic & Lolita Bible" or "KERA!" read 20 years later?
What kind of fashion magazines should a woman who loves reading "Bungei" or "Shumi no Bungubako" read?
I want someone to tell me.

No, wait, to begin with, to begin with, you know?

......Who decided that a woman in a sushi skirt isn't a good woman?

Isn't it all just my own assumption?
I should be able to become a good woman without taking off the sushi skirt.
The reason I'm not a good woman isn't because of the sushi skirt.
My own way of thinking is what makes me a woman who isn't good.

By the way, the good woman I define is:

・Someone who walks through her own life on her own two feet
・Someone who thinks firmly with her own head
・Someone who can firmly assert her own thoughts and feelings
・And yet, someone who can also be reasonably considerate
・Someone who enjoys the clothes and makeup she likes for her own sake

That is the kind of woman. A woman who prioritizes pleasing herself over pleasing men.
In my definition, there is no mention of sushi skirts at all.

Sorry, sushi skirt. I won't be casting you aside just yet.
I'll explore a way to wear you that doesn't seem strange, in a way that suits a 38-year-old.
Just like that day I graduated from Lolita, I'll have you stay with me until the moment I feel I no longer need you.

As an aside, in addition to my monthly color and cut at the salon, I get highlights every two months.
I've been doing this for over a year and a half now, so even if it hasn't reached a full-head bleach, the whole thing has become reasonably bright.
For the past few months, I've been using pink and lavender tones to match the spring, but these colors with red elements turn into a hair color like hashed beef when they fade.
I really hated this hashed beef-colored head, so I told them at the time of booking that I wanted to get rid of the redness and that I wanted to add cool tones because it's summer.
They said that adding green is good for getting rid of redness, so after consulting, we decided to dye it turquoise this time.

"Since you're concerned about the redness, I'll leave it on for a little longer."

I feel like the male hairdresser in charge said something like that.
I replied absentmindedly while flipping through a magazine, looking ridiculous with my head wrapped in plastic wrap.

After the shampoo, cut, and blow-dry, I was shocked when I faced myself in the mirror.
Isn't it a full-on turquoise color?
In my image, I was fine with a color where you could just slightly feel the turquoise when it hit the light.
Because I have highlight bleach, although there are dark parts here and there (this phenomenon is already strange), it is normally flashy hair.
My bangs are completely Lum-chan color.
Megumi-tico, occupation: public school teacher, daccha.

"Wow, it's a wonderfully beautiful color."

Thinking I had to say something, I conveyed that impression, and the male hairdresser nodded with a smug look.

"Right? I left it on longer so the redness was nicely removed, and it looks good."

I have a class observation day and a parent-teacher meeting coming up soon.
I want to get rid of the full-head turquoise look as soon as possible.
I don't know why, but I feel like appearing in front of parents with a Lum-chan-colored head is a problem even before being a good woman.
I'm shampooing twice a day, hoping that my hair, which I just spent ten thousand yen to dye, will fade quickly.