375 fun-lovin' degrees
It's the temperature our blueberry cobbler is baking at (or should I say, like the proper English major I am, at which our blueberry cobbler is baking), but it feels like the my body temperature right now. I am sweltering. Withering. Wilting. Hello, August. Why are we baking, again? Because we are rolling in blueberries, that's why.
I am hoping to show some things I'm working on soon, but I'm not sure I can get anything else done until I get my studio under control, and it is just too hot for that kind of effort. The most effort I can muster is for staying up late to watch Sopranos DVDs, which I've been getting from the library. J and I are finally stepping from the cultural sidelines into the mainstream. So what if the mainstream passed under the bridge eight years ago? Who's counting?
Meanwhile, my love affair with my new bike continues, at least in the mornings and evenings when it's not too blistering to be outside. I got a nifty detachable basket for it so now I can carry Iris and my purse, water bottle, lock, and packages. Thus equipped, this morning I set out on a couple of Uninspiring Errands, which fortunately took place in an Ever-Interesting Neighborhood. I pedaled past a rack of never-worn 1950s dresses on the sidewalk, then (can you hear the screech of tires?) executed a rapid about-face to stop and peruse them. I ended up trying on two and buying both after a lengthy internal debate about whether this one was too busy:
But I so loved the cut of it and especially the sleeves, which have fins just like the cars this dress would have ridden in:
And though I have not really been on the whole mustard-yellow bandwagon this summer – let's just say that the color does not flatter my northern European pallor – there was never any doubt about getting this one:
It even came with a little matching butterfly jacket. I'll probably mostly wear the dress without, but cute, no?
The guy who was selling the dresses said they came from an old woman who bought them 50 years ago and just stored them in her closet. Indeed, most of them had the tags still on and they looked just printed yesterday.
In case you can't read the fine print, that tag would have you believe that Flairlin is "The finest man made fabric available." So quaint, that atomic-age enthusiasm for all that is unnatural! But that's just the jacket; the dresses themselves are cotton and crisp as potato chips.
Speaking of which, tomorrow we're invited to a picnic at the home of friends who have a pool. Counting the hours....
I am hoping to show some things I'm working on soon, but I'm not sure I can get anything else done until I get my studio under control, and it is just too hot for that kind of effort. The most effort I can muster is for staying up late to watch Sopranos DVDs, which I've been getting from the library. J and I are finally stepping from the cultural sidelines into the mainstream. So what if the mainstream passed under the bridge eight years ago? Who's counting?
Meanwhile, my love affair with my new bike continues, at least in the mornings and evenings when it's not too blistering to be outside. I got a nifty detachable basket for it so now I can carry Iris and my purse, water bottle, lock, and packages. Thus equipped, this morning I set out on a couple of Uninspiring Errands, which fortunately took place in an Ever-Interesting Neighborhood. I pedaled past a rack of never-worn 1950s dresses on the sidewalk, then (can you hear the screech of tires?) executed a rapid about-face to stop and peruse them. I ended up trying on two and buying both after a lengthy internal debate about whether this one was too busy:
But I so loved the cut of it and especially the sleeves, which have fins just like the cars this dress would have ridden in:
And though I have not really been on the whole mustard-yellow bandwagon this summer – let's just say that the color does not flatter my northern European pallor – there was never any doubt about getting this one:
It even came with a little matching butterfly jacket. I'll probably mostly wear the dress without, but cute, no?
The guy who was selling the dresses said they came from an old woman who bought them 50 years ago and just stored them in her closet. Indeed, most of them had the tags still on and they looked just printed yesterday.
In case you can't read the fine print, that tag would have you believe that Flairlin is "The finest man made fabric available." So quaint, that atomic-age enthusiasm for all that is unnatural! But that's just the jacket; the dresses themselves are cotton and crisp as potato chips.
Speaking of which, tomorrow we're invited to a picnic at the home of friends who have a pool. Counting the hours....
posted by angelique at 5:14 PM
4 Comments:
love the dresses - hope you get to cool down in the pool tomorrow!
The dresses are fabulous! What a score.
i've been diggin' the tv-on-dvd lately too...mostly "six feet under" and "weeds". i hear you on the sweltering. thursday and friday were not fun around here.
those dresses are too fabulous!
wow!
the dresses are amazing!!
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