The Tiara

I'm still wavering about what to wear for my birthday. At the moment, nothing in my closet is appealing to me. There is one item, however, that is firmly decided upon.


I bought this tiara last year for my 25th. It was about $3 at the local Party City. I didn't spend long in the birthday-related aisle before making my way to the cashier with this one in tow. I wasn't very excited about the prospect of turning 25. In fact, I dreaded it. Feeling unaccomplished while turning a year older never leaves one ready to party. Especially when that birthday is a milestone. But something about the pink and the purple and the general sparkliness made me giddy. It reminded me of the silver Happy Birthday tiara my mother presented me with on my fourth birthday. I sat in the middle of the living room with my legs crossed opening my presents and feeling particularly special and loved.

I don't remember the gifts I received that year. There were possibly a few Barbie related items and some clothes, but I remember the tiara. I held onto it for years. It might still be hiding somewhere in my mother's house. Hidden along with the now frightening doll that's heart and crown only lit up when you shook her as hard as you could. (Thank goodness I didn't have any younger siblings that my little self could try this trick on.)

To say that I'm feeling anxious about the prospect of this upcoming birthday wouldn't be a stretch by any means. But one thing that does calm me about it is this plastic novelty. Looking utterly ridiculous walking along Brooklyn streets while receiving Happy Birthdays from strangers. Taking many pictures as it sits upon my head.

Blowing out a candle set in my favorite restaurant's bread pudding and making a wish.