This is the day the unicorns have their picnic.

Too cute to be adult-sized. This dress is presented as a top for an adult person, but is (even by the ebayer's own admission) most likely a child's dress. This should not deter a slim and intrepid woman from trying it on. Though I am no longer the twig I once was, I can still sometimes get into a kids size 12 or 14, especially if it is one of those shapeless empire waist party dresses like this one. However, this one is a child's size 5, so one would need to be Liliputian indeed. And probably open up the arm holes a bit. Though I am a pessimist about everything except clothing, I think it would be tough to make this one work.

But this is adult-sized:





But made for an adult in touch with her inner-child. Posing and prancing carousel-style unicorns on a preppy skirt. Sure, this fabric looks a bit jejune, especially with the pink bows those unicorns are sporting, but who could resist all this fun?

Apartment Therapy recently advocated the collecting of Vera scarves for the hideous and ghoulish purpose of turning them into pillow cases for throw pillows on couches. I protest. Most silk scarves will shred under that kind of pressure. Pulled taut and leaned upon? Sat upon? Propped under heads? No, no and no.

I've posted a Vera print or two previously, and am drawn to her signature ladybug. I heartily approve of scarves in general. I am usually wearing (at least) one and ecourage others to do so as well. I go so far as to have a scarf and a shawl with me year 'round, combating winter and airconditioning alike.

Far from mere decoration, a scarf is an overwhelmingly useful thing to have around. It can keep your neck warm, protect your coif, hide your identity from the paparazzi, or cover your nose and mouth if you encounter tear gas. If necessary, it could be used as a tourniquet, or if large enough, a sling. I have had ocassion to use my scarf to secure an icepack. I can dramatically flag down a cab in a snow storm. And once in an emergency I tied a scarf around my waist, added a safety pin and wore it as a skirt. (It's a long story involving a characiture artist, a marriage proposal from a Frum I had just met, a copy of Fitzgerald's The Beautiful and the Damned and failed attempt to get into the Screen Extras Guild union.)

Now for wounds to the head involving blood (Pfui! Pfui! Pfui! Kaynehora, keep the evil eye away)I've got my pocket handkerchief. But for everything else, I've got a workhorse of a scarf.

If I were to suvive a plane crash over the Pacific and find myself on a desert island, I would be rescued in no time. I'd merely hoist my brightly-hued novelty print dress in a tree where it could be seen from a helicopter, and sit comfortably on the beach reading a Dickens novel with my scarf tied about me like a sarong. By my calculations, I'd be receiving medical attention within 4 hours. I know it's an unlikely scenario, but I like to plan for the worst.

However, I wear my scarves so wide and long that I am, at times, in danger of an Isadora Duncan ending. Live by the scarf, die by the scarf.