Thursday, June 21, 2012

L -- Leotard

Do you ever wonder why fairies are usually shown dressing like little ballerinas?  I know.

First:  sizing issues.  The leotard they wear is not any kind of fabric.  It's a form-fitting energy shield that performs all the same functions as clothing.  It keeps them warm, and covers up skin.  It can expand with any size the fairy decides to take, morph to look different if a fairy decides to take the disguise of an old beggar woman, like you've read in the stories.  More recently, Thumbelina's leotard took the shape of my jeans and t-shirt ensemble.  It even added the perfect accessories I had worn on the day I met her -- the little sneak.

Next:  adaptability.  So, because it's made of energy, the zipping in and out of water really does nothing permanent to the shield.  It doesn't get wet -- just exists anywhere the fairy wants to take it.  That could be a trip to the moon or to the bottom of the ocean.  (I'm speculating here.  I don't know if there are deep ocean trench jobs for fairies or not.)  Anyway -- fairies can fly through fire if needed and their clothes won't burst into flames for the same reason -- they're not made of flammable fibers.

The flowing skirts are pretty.  I'll grant the fairies that.  But they don't actually wear them for their prettiness.  It's definitely a form follows function issue here.  Aerodynamics.  Having a little drag in the center of their bodies actually stabilizes the fairies as they fly.  Know how a bird will fan its wing feathers one way or another?  The fairy skirt does the same things.  Helps with steering.  Keeps a fairy from wobbling or veering unexpectedly off course with a stray breeze.  It's a necessary part of flying.  Sort of like a kite usually needs a tail.  I didn't realize it at first, when I was learning to fly, but the skirt reacts to my flying intentions just as naturally as the hawks feathers adjust to make diving possible.  Since fairies are female, they usually want their skirts to be lovely colors.  I don't blame them.  I like my green skirt.

FYI:  The fairy males also wear flowing outfits which stabilize their flight, but they opt for a more tailored look -- at least that 's what the gals around here said, when I asked.  I won't be a tourist in this grove the next time males return.

Hair often changes to match the outfit, and that's a much easier process for a fairy than a human.  I have to go to a salon for a major makeover.  Not them.  Hair?  They can change their style just by thinking up something new.  When I found that out, I got totally jealous.  They took a long time to puff up my hair for my meeting with the queen, and it may never actually recover.  After all, I'm still just a tiny human with a few predictable limitations.  Not only is it puffy now, it's a funky shade of lime green to match my skirt.  It will take a real expert to return me to normal at the end of the month.  If I could do any color or style like they do, I'd experiment with something new three times a day.

Actually, frequent hair make overs wouldn't be much problem, at least for recognizing me.  Now that I'm all marked up in ultraviolet, they'd still know who I am.   (The most permanent distinguishing feature on a fairy is her ultraviolet makeup designs.)


Even if you came to this grove, you couldn't see me.  If you did, though, you'd either think I was nuts for going along with the new look.  Or you'd want to try it yourself.  Just depends how adventurous you are.  When I get back, I'll see if one of my photo shop expert friends will make a portrait of how I looked this month.


Oh.  One last thing about the fairy leotard.  No wedgies.  Gotta love that.


-- Sabrina


I actually had to look up "wedgie."  It's not in the human dictionary.  An online slang dictionary described something pretty unpleasant.  Oh, the silly lengths humans will go to in their quest to be more like fairies.  How I pity them.


May your venus fly trap viciously trap flies.


-- Fresh