Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Holy Mother of Pearl. Look at this underwater knockout. These elegant yet ravaged-looking seahorses appear to have sprung from the imagination of surrealist painter Leonora Carrington. Bloated deep sea fish and desiccated bits of kelp cruise through swaths of cobalt watercolor.

It’s hard to get a sense of the overall repeat pattern from these photos. Are those squid? Jelly fish? I think I could get lost in this print. I love the little puff sleeves and the bows in the back. Oh, this one is too tempting.

But alas, it’s too small for me. (B38, W26 ½) I’ve got a 28 inch waist, if you must know. Optimistic types might say to me, that’s a mere inch and a half away from aquatic frock paradise. But really now, I’ve just tucked into a chocolate chip scone. My mother would say the dreaded words: foundation garment. To that I say: Feh. Not that I haven’t gone down that road before, you understand, but only for special occasions when a beloved frock suddenly didn’t fit and I had to be at a black tie event in an hour. You know, when you’re in a tight squeeze, pardon the double entendre. Definitely not a comfortable solution for a day dress that I would wear to work. I prefer the radical notion of buying clothing that fits me. Ideally with room to grow so I can eat dinner, dance and generally enjoy myself. What’s the point of looking fabulous when you can’t have any fun?


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