I frequently refer to myself as “The Bag Lady.” This is because in public I look like a homeless lady who carries or wears all of her possessions. Homeless people often layer clothing. I’m not sure if this is because they need to adapt to the range of changing temperatures throughout a full day or to have less to carry when traveling from place to place. I would think it’s both, depending on where you live.
When I make a decision to face the world, I have to plan my attack. Okay, so it’s more like a survival plan. I put all my necessary gear in my backpack: water bottle, ocean spray (nasal spray), tissues, cotton mask, overshirt, hat, and an “away from home too long” snack. Then, I think like the average person and I include my cell phone and my shopping list. I often forget the list because I am so concerned about having my survival stuff. Unfortunately, the whole purpose of the outing is to get what is on the list.
In addition to carrying half of my worldly possessions, I also look homeless because I wear a frayed old hat and a torn men's shirt. These cloths are shredded because I wash them often and I’ve had them so long. What no one knows is that most of the time I look quite presentable underneath my homeless attire.
I’m used to the stares. And the only times I get embarrassed is if I run into a family member out in public and they look uncomfortable while been seen talking to “The Bag Lady.” Sometimes I get looks as if people suspect I may be a celebrity trying to look really homely and go unnoticed. I think that is because of the lack of makeup and desperately needed hair styling. I believe their logic is that one would not look the way I do on purpose, unless trying to fool people. Since no one has tried to take my picture or ask for an autograph, I’m probably off the mark here.
“So why do I layer?” some may ask. I do this to protect my hair and clothes from becoming saturated with fragrances and chemicals. Once I’ve survived a visit in a store, I remove the hat and outer clothes (I can cover them up in the car). Otherwise, I will get in my car and be trapped in a very small space with the chemicals, or worse, have these chemicals stuck on me until the moment I can shower.
And some may wonder, why no make-up and no hair treatments. Well, I do wear a little Clinique makeup that doesn’t irritate me. But there is no way I can breathe the chemicals from having my hair bleached, dyed, or permed… I can’t even tolerate walking into a salon, much less having toxic products on my head. My husband has been cutting my hair for the last three years… but he is certainly no beautician. (It’s a good thing it is stuffed up in a hat when I’m in public.)
CONCLUSION: People with MCS are still people underneath the masks and strange outerwear. We really aren’t trying to get attention and strange looks… well, not most of us (there’s always an odd bird or two in every flock). We just do what has to be done to survive.
