I can't tell you how long I spent on this first piece of artwork below. Well, I can, but I won't. The vintage satin and sequin Chinese padded vest needed to be immortalized. As did those stretch caramel leather booties. And the hair, well, see paragraph below.
Remember when I said in the previous post, if you don't know what SEO is (search engine optimization) you might as well scrap your blog and stick your head in the toilet? Clearly, I'm as bad as it gets - the hair don't lie.
Connie summed it up with such erudition in her comment: "schblah-glunge-schwoop."
But therein lies my genius. I am expecting correspondence from Liquid Plumber drain cleaner any day now with a glamorous sponsorship offer that will have all tip-top fashonistas clamouring for similar deals. Who better to sell that shite than someone with a swirly? Especially middle-aged with a swirly. And imagine the fun I'd have making videos to pitch their products.
Next I'll have automotive and electrical parts companies beating down my electronic door. And I shall be living on Cloud 9 where everything is at my beck and call. Hurrah. Flush.
Onto the fashion:
Above is a couture look that says, wow, looks like that lady got tangled up in a wraparound skirt. Astute! It is indeed a maxi wraparound skirt, but one that's too precious, I felt, to be trapped within the rubric of the granola-cruncher set - not that that's a bad thing. Some of my favourite mammals eat granola.
No, this silk piece cried out for romantic fluttering closer to my heart, an intense infusion of incense, Shinto shrines, Lawrence of Arabia and Marrakesh night markets, paper lanterns, Paris runways, bordellos and bourbon. A whirlwind in my closet! In a word - a silk body wrap.
To add to the romance, under the wrap I am wearing my farked tank dress backwards. The script I painted on it, "I Surrender to the Chaos," seemed much more fitting positioned under my ass than my boobs, the latter of which never put up a fight to begin with making surrender a rather moot point. Plus, with this wrap the words were only legible from the back, at least when I left home, and both shirt sleeves were fully covered as well. All the best couture is slidey, don't you find?
I am also wearing black jeggings, and on my feet thrifted lace-up booties and colourful Harlequin socks with black athletic socks underneath to prevent scraping of my ankles. Yes, cute shoes, but even without a tongue they give me quite a nasty lashing.
I may have only paid five dollars for this swath of processed caterpillar spit, but it looked and felt like a million bucks when I sashayed through Nordstrom, yesh. Cloud 9. Royal flush.
And a parting photo of the sequin satin vest. I would have enjoyed acting in silent movies; maybe in a previous (still ongoing?) life I did. In this photo I see a young (heh), small-town woman clutching her bags, waiting for the train to carry her off to the big city where I suspect she would take up smoking, drinking gin, and scandalously rolling down her stockings.
Which favourite automotive part would you like as a sponsor?
On Sunday I'll hook this up with Patti, hostess of one of the longest-running link-up parties ever - Visible Monday - at Not Dead Yet Style. Have you seen her new place? Schpetacular!
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HAAAT ATTAAACK!!! (27)
Hi Judith and everyone! See you at the meetup at Style Crone.
Unexpectedly feeling like a cowboy in this hat, a plain blue cotton cloche worn
high with the brim turned up. Chanel sunglasses.
Jacquard "Mad Hatter" jacket that feels
like furniture. Mmm.
Get the cards ready. It's going to be an all-nighter.
Who's bringing the pie?
Thanks, Judith!
