Fiona
We've been hearing about how cute we look together since birth. And it's quite annoying, really. Like most twins, we'd been dressed to coordinate with each other pretty much until we hit 10. If I wore my forest green Christmas dress with the black lace for the diplomat holiday party, then of course Declan should match and wear his forest green tie with a black dress shirt. If he was in the mood to wear his striped polo for an outing (and trust me, he made sure he got his way about things), then my mother would cleverly find striped tights and maybe even a striped chic hat for me to wear. Just so we always matched.
And people could always have to make a comment.
"Look how precious they are!"
"What adorable little twins!"
"Oh how clever! They match!"
"Have you ever seen anything this cute?"
And then they'd pinch our cheeks.
You know, after about 10 years of that it really gets quite annoying.
We'd already, through glares and silent but desperate head shakes behind our mother's backs, established which colors, patterns and fabrics the other would refuse to wear, so that by age 7 our closets almost looked exactly the same. Scary, we know.
Of course, after many exasperated sighs from our father, mom finally let us off the hook, took us shopping, and let us remodel our entire wardrobe—separately.
But even now, some mornings Declan will simply barge in my room while I'm dressing, make small talk for second while glancing at what I plan on wearing for the day, and then leave. And when I slide in the back seat of the limo a few minutes later I find that he's coordinated some part of his outfit to match some part of mine. And I smile.