V2W “ Emerald Sovereign “ The Medusa Hoodie

     Medusa  Turned, But Not Stone

Before they called her monster, she was a girl who kept the temple. She was not born with snakes. She was born with dark hair that held the sea wind, and hands that lit the lamps for Athena every morning. She was devoted. She believed if she was pure enough, quiet enough, good enough,  the goddess would protect her. The god didn't care how pure she was. Poseidon took her in Athena's temple, on the temple floor. And Athena didn't look at the god, she looked at the girl, at the girl's beauty, at the fact that her temple had been desecrated and it was easier to punish the girl who bled there than the god who did it.

                So she cursed her.

But she didn't turn her to stone, that's what people get wrong. Athena turned her hair. One morning Medusa reached up to braid it and it moved. Gold snakes, thick as wrists, coiled around her fingers. Emerald ones slipped through her scalp like living jewelry, one rested against her forehead like a third eye that would never close again. They hissed, not at her, for her. Her scalp was alive, her head was heavy with new weight. She ran to the bronze reflection plate in the temple, and that's the moment your image reflects. Her hand on her face, not covering, but feeling. She is touching her cheek to see if she is still there. Is the skin still soft? Is the mouth still hers? Am I under the curse?

She is, that is the cruelty and the mercy of it. Athena turned her hair to make her monstrous, but she left her flesh human, so she would feel everything. The shame they put on her, the stares, the exile, the cold of the cave they would send her to.

She is not stone. Stone doesn't cry. She was still crying.

Her emeralds, she didn't take them off. They were hers from before. A gift from her mother, a green stone at her throat for protection. She kept them on, let them say she was a monster, she would be a monster with her jewels still on. Let them say she was unholy, she would keep adornment. They could change her hair, they could not change her taste. Her vanity. Her humanity. The snakes became her sisters. The gold one wrapped her temple when she had headaches from listening to the gods argue. The green one guarded her throat, because she had been silenced in the story   "she seduced Poseidon", they said, when she had been held down. She had to learn to see,  really see, not with pretty priestess eyes, but with Gorgon eyes that could see a man's intention before he spoke.

They told you her gaze turned men to stone.

In this moment, before she learned to harden others, she was learning that she had not hardened herself, and that was her power. Every man who came to kill her expected a monster who was already stone,  cold, unfeeling, easy to slay because she wanted to die. What they found was a woman still warm, still touching her own face with tenderness, still wearing green jewels, with snakes that loved her.

She was turned, but not into stone.

She was turned into a woman who could no longer be touched without permission. Who could no longer be entered, temple nor body without consequence. They gave her snakes to isolate her. The snakes made sure no one ever grabbed her again without being bitten.

She was turned, but not into stone, because stone doesn't get to choose.

                     Stone just is.

She still got to choose. And she chose to stay soft, even after everything she had been through 

Warning: once you throw this soft-to-the-touch cotton blend hoodie on, you may not want to take it off.

• 65% ring-spun cotton, 35% polyester 
• Heavyweight fabric (8.5 oz)
• Regular fit but can run a bit tight, would recommend going up a size or two for a baggy fit
• Unisex sizing