2005-07-26 - 7:48 p.m.

July 25, 2005

Jeez, I need to get back in the habit of posting. Lucky for you, LJer partywhipple badgered me into being COTD again, so there are a few "thousand words" over in his journal. Cleavage, a butt shot, and a couple outfit pictures.

We went dirt biking on Saturday. While we were there, between the two of us, we saw a chipmunk, a turtle, a deer, and a dead turkey. Poindexter brought me up to the spot where the turtle had been but he had disappeared. The dead turkey was in a spot I do not have the skills to get to. Which is a shame, because I really wanted to see it. I've never seen a turkey in the wild, even though I know theoretically they exist. We can't ride during "Gobbler Season".

Also, I dropped my bike three or four times on rough rocky terrain, which is FUCKING ANNOYING. Picking it up takes a lot out of me -- I have virtually no upper arm strength. Plus, the whole point of (motorized) dirt biking is supposed to be that the BIKE does the work, not me.

Tonight I went for a 50-minute walk to try out my new Tevas. They are ugly and the fashion freak in me is repelled by them, but they are awfully comfy, which is why I bought them. The old lady in me, with the little aches and pains, appreciates this. Midway through the walk -- I was just zigzagging through my own neighborhood, rather than walk straight out and back anywhere -- I stopped in at a playground and got on the swings for a while. And made the pleasing discovery that the arm work required to swing uses the same muscles I need to ride the dirt bike. So maybe I can work up a little strength that way, since there is just no way I am going to lift weights or do pushups. Too boring.

I was sitting there swinging and thinking, "I am a thirty-three year old woman and I am swinging. I am insane. I am probably frightening the little children." Then along came two women in their early 40s who got on and started swinging too. So I may have been insane, but I had company.

There was a little boy their with his dad, and the dad picked up the little boy, held him in front of his face, and was blowing raspberries on his stomach. The little boy was beating his dad on the head with his little fists. I do that to Poindexter when he bites me too hard.

Also while I was out, when it was getting dark and I was walking fast to get home and feeling good from the endorphins, I saw a small baby who smiled at me. She was maybe 8-9 months old, I'd guess -- she was pulling herself into a standing position by holding the balusters (?) on the stoop railing -- and was one of those little teeny babies, small for their age, whose motor skills are much better than their size would lead you to expect. I had an overwhelming feeling of wanting to pick her up. I always want to pick up cute babies, and do so whenever possible, but this one really got to me. It pains me now to think of her little face, grinning at me delightedly through the railing.

This happens to me every now and then, when I will see a person (of any age; it's not strictly a baby thing) and feel, immediately, very strongly drawn to them. I still remember some of these people, years after having seen them. One of them was a girl in her teens that I saw on a church bus while I was stuck in traffic on I-95 somewhere near here when I was 22 or 23, en route from Virginia to visit my parents in Jersey. I don't remember what she looked like, just that I was dancing in my seat to something on the radio and we made eye contact and smiled at each other in amusement and ... sigh. I don't know how to explain it. I think some of it is the fleeting nature of it. All you have is that one perfect little connection with them, before reality has a chance to come along and show you how incompatible you actually are.

July 26, 2005

I'm still completely obsessed with fashion and clothes. It's been almost a year now. I keep waiting for it to subside and it doesn't seem to happen. Maybe 'cause it keeps CHANGING, and this fall there's again a focus on ladylike, fitted clothing that makes me squee.

Looking back at my journal, it was about four years ago that my MIL went shopping with me and introduced me to the idea of paying more than $15 for an item of clothing. That was when I made my little vow about "no more baggy clothes" and started being super picky about what I bought. I am happy to report that I am still delighted with most, if not all, of the purchases I made back then, including the following two pairs of pants. I get excited every fall when I realize I can wear them again. Notice they are plaid and tweed. Big surprise there:

Poindexter calls these my "fishbone" pants. After yelling at him on multiple occasions that it's "HERRINGBONE!", I stopped and thought about what he was saying. "Oh, I guess a herring is a fish. I was thinking that it didn't really look like ... wait, it looks exactly like fishbone. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME!?" Apparently I had been thinking "wishbone", since it rhymes. I am getting old, you know that? My brain just doesn't work right anymore.

Anyway. I mentioned to LJer CamilleOphelia recently that I thought I might be going about my financial view of fashion the wrong way. I originally was thinking that I would spend more for well-made classic pieces that I would keep forever, while spending less on trendy items. However, two things are making me reconsider this idea.

For one thing, now that I've discovered consignment shops, I can get well-made classic pieces that will keep forever for less than $20 apiece. Consignment shops have a lot of classic items, because people bring the work clothes they're bored with. One of the shops I like has several racks containing nothing but black pants.

The other thing is that it's hard to fall in love with classic boring basics. When I fall in love with something, it tends to be something a little crazy that I am always afraid I will get sick of. And the things that are "a little crazy", are well made, fit well, and don't look cheap also tend to be expensive, from $50 on up to hundreds of dollars. So I'm thinking maybe I will use the consignment shops for experimenting and for basics, and then once in a while splurge on something I'm really crazy about that might not be all that practical.

Speaking of experimenting, here's a dress I got at a consignment store for $9. It's a Max Studio dress, and probably cost at least $100 if not more when it was new, possibly over $200. And it's machine washable. I don't usually like prints but something about the fall colors in this one appealed to me:

The belt was six bucks and the boots $15ish at Payless.

One other thing that's been frustrating for me lately is shoes. I am beginning to hate the people that make shoes. They are not designing shoes to be WALKED in; they are making art for the feet, and at the very most, you are supposed to stand around in this art, not actually WALK in it. Either the heel is over 1.5 inches or the heel wears away after a mile of walking. And given that I don't wear shoes in the house, and if I'm not in the house, I'm outside walking, this means that I have fallen in love with about 453677 pairs of shoes to date that I will never wear.

For example, I am in love to the point of tears with this shoe, in gold. The brocade and the little bronze sparklies make my breath catch. And they are flats, so they won't hurt to wear. But I KNOW that the little tiny heel on that thing will be completely ruined after one 1.5-mile walk to meet Poindexer after work. And let's not talk about the fact that if the temps are below 65, I'll be cold, and if the temps are above 75, it's too warm to wear the clothes that work with ballet flats. How many days a year does Philadelphia have temps between 65-75 when it is not raining? Maybe ten. Ugh.

So now when I fall in love with a pair of shoes, I find a picture of it and save it in my manila folder or my "wishbook" folder on my hard drive. I don't buy them. Dammit.

OK, enough whining. I saw an adorable cardigan while shopping at Lord & Taylor's summer clearance -- those sneaky bastards lure you in with the 50-70% off and then have cute full-price fall merchandise sitting there to torture you with.

BEGIN BORING FINANCIAL RAMBLING

It was $86, and the "Kate Hill" store brand, so I knew it would be 30% off relatively soon. A couple weeks later we went to the store so my parents could hear the organ concert, and the sweater was 30% off, and Poindexter (who finds shopping less boring than organ music, apparently) went looking around and found some clearance clothes for himself. So with the coupon I was able to get it for $48. I follow how and when Lord & Taylor does their sales and coupons (I track it in a spreadsheet, along with a few others of my favorite stores), and I could not have gotten it at that low a price unless I waited for clearance, by which time my size might've been gone. The coupon was for $20 off a $100 purchase, and there was nothing else I wanted to buy. Yay for Poindexter bringing the total to $100!

END FINANCIAL RAMBLING

And I really, really like this sweater, and already had at least five items in my closet to wear it with, and it's good for client meetings or parties. It's fitted at the waist, is reminiscent of a Chanel jacket, and I love the ivory detailing.

I tried it on with several items in my closet (until it started getting too hot, wearing a sweater in July). I like it best in the last photo, but perhaps y'all have different opinions. :)

Here it is with my fishbone pants:

And with a pleated skirt that a friend gave me 10 years ago:

And with the black circle skirt I bought last year. This is my favorite look -- it's the most old-fashioned, I think:

Dammit, I *LIKE* old-fashioned. I would have been so happy fashion-wise if I were living in the forties.

BTW, it was my own idea to try it with the fishbone tweed pants, and then a few days later happened to see this while browsing the Saks web site:

That sweater costs $280. I like mine better. Not sure if I like how it works with the fishbone pants, though.

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