my grandma has a blue cotton dress that she wears at homeit has a different scent every daythe smell of each night’s dinnerthe breeze from a brisk walk outsideor the dampness of the air during rainy seasonthe smell of orchids from the florists’ shop, pastries from the bakery across the street,freshly cut melon for dessert, steaming morning coffeethe scents of the lotions she uses and her shampoostitched deep inside the span of threads within the fabric of her blue dress

her closet is a fusion of attireeye-catching golf shirts in jolting colorsbutton-up tops in solid shadesa long, straight dress in sunset plaidvertical stripes running up and down pastel blousesshe likes modest styles with classy huesshoes without adornments, elegant traces

there’s a Korean proverb, “Clothes are wings”that means clothes make the personmy grandma says clothes will showwho you arebecause people will judge by the first thing they seehow magical it is that we can change how somebodyfirst interprets usjust by the variation of simple cloth