Ms. Vintage Vixen strikes again with yet another awe inspiring novelty print. As you know, goslings, I love an Egyptian print, and I've never seen anything like this before. My favorite motif in this repeat pattern is the figure in the boat. Only 2 hours left to bid. It's on the small side and currently holding steady at $36.00. Get it now.

How does she do it? Again, as always, my hat is off to Ms. Vintage Vixen who always has mind-blowing novelty prints.

This is a photo of me in one of my Egyptian dresses. It's very hard to see here, I know. This photo was taken about a year ago with an ancient cast-off digital camera lent to me by a friend. I think this camera only takes photos that are a fraction of a pixel. Rudolpho bought me a decent camera last year for my birthday and my photos improved, plus I cleaned up my apartment a bit. (What will I do without Rudolpho? Alas, I realized too late that he was the only person who cared.)

I was trying to do profile shots. I had been looking at photos of Barbra Streisand from the 60s. Cecil Beaton did a series of protraits of Babs profile and I think they look stunning. I think that a shnoz can look regal, don't you? But maybe that's because I've got one myself. That Sir Cecil could sure cut a frock and trim a hat. He did both the costumes and set design for On A Clear Day. It's my favorite Babs vehicle, despite a risible plot, because it looks so glorious.

I've been taking photos of what I wear everyday for almost 2 years. I am still at it. I posted some of the photos on flickr, and invited only my friends and family to look at them. Reactions were mostly negative so although I kept taking photos, I stopped posting them. I still don't know what to do with them, and resigned myself to taking photos just for me. To document unremarkable days that would otherwise simply vanish, even from my own memory.

They seem awfully personal, and many, such as this one, are unflattering. There's something so defeated about the messy apartment (that I couldn't even straighten the blanket on the sofa for crying out loud), the bra just falling out of view in the lower left corner, and my desperate uptilted chin. Isn't it just sad?

I'm in therapy again, goslings.