I'm not knocking you if you DO in fact wear elastic-waist polyester pants, but one does feel so much more alive in pickled pink maxi Loungewear. Drinks, anyone? Meet me at the manhole cover.
I was curious about this "if you're menopausal-ish you start to wear pink" rule doing the blogger circuit, so I consulted the oracle, the Oxford Medical Dictionary of Physicality and Suchlike. I happened to be wearing my 3-D glasses at the time and there, under Menopausal-ish Symptoms, cleverly invisible to the naked eye, words started to materialize between the lines. Symptom 0.33(i): Irrepressible urge to wear pink. Of course! Then Symptom 1.52(c): Haphazard wearing of 3-D glasses. Then Symptom 3.7(gg): Spouting nonsense on your way to Nirvana (did not specify Cobain variety or Buddhal place).
I wore this symptomatic outfit on my inspiration walk today, flapping flamingo-like in the bracing morning breeze. Whap, whap, whap. Outta my way - there's a menopausal-ish woman coming through!! The kimono belt is lacking, which partially explains why this gem, luxuriously lined in silky healthy-gums pink, was only $20. Considering its pinkness is a soothing balm for the menopausal-ish mind, perhaps it is considered a medical aid and I could have paid with insurance. Nah, then the flap would be at the back.
The panoply of playful bold pink and patterned outfits in posts of late are clear indications that we're dealing with a contagion, spreading, oozing insidiously beyond age boundaries! I'm afraid there is no cure but time itself. Until then, brace, brace, brace in candy floss pink, cinderella-on-crack bubblegum, and Pepto-Bismol splendour. Show me how you suffer.
That's all.
Oh, I got a haircut. Next is colouring. I mean de-colouring.
Also, under this Loungewear I am wearing a warm camisole, a thrifted brown turtleneck, my skinny jeans, my Geisha socks, and a thrifted red maxi cardigan which you've seen in a hideous outfit in an earlier post. Gaaah.
