The holeliness of the wool Alaia Paris dress

First stop. I seem to have stepped into this painting by Jeff Depner I found hanging at Nordstrom. My Alaia Paris navy and brown belted wool dress took me there. Too bad you can't hear the music in my head that accompanies this vintage vibe. 

The dress came from Anne of SpyGirl at the blogger meetup clothing swap in July and it's cool enough now to wear. Thank you, Anne! As a trash rescue, she pointed out the detailing made by moths, unsure what I would think. Well, that's what black underwear and coats are for! Greetje, No Fear of Fashion, has a great shot of this dress from the meetup here, scroll down. 

Next stop. I decided to take my party into the lobby of Hotel Georgia, which is also home to the speakeasy Prohibition. Dear me, looks like I was the only one who showed up! Passersby threw money into my toolbox handbag and afterwards I went and bought bread pudding.

I prefer this dress backwards because the belt creates two little scallop shapes below the waistline at the front which I find visually interesting. And the collar is higher in reverse. Having the snap closure on my back is tricky but nothing a little contortionism and mastery of curse words can't handle. The photo below shows how the dress was designed to look from the front.

Detail of fabric wrapping, and moth holes on my shoulder. The brown swath of fabric is sewn onto the "front" of the dress, wraps around to criss-cross at the rear, and finally belts at the front. Ruching where the belt attaches to the fabric provides lovely structural detail. 

Final stop. Concrete studio for Zoolandering.

I always try to mend holes in my clothes because: 1) upkeep prevents further destruction, and 2) socially, holes are almost pathologically unacceptable, unless they are put there deliberately by a designer. Given this dress's fairly extensive damage and precise structural design, I decided to go with camouflage. 

Do any of you pro sewists have mending ideas for sprays of tiny moth holes in fine wool knits?

No matter what, you can't keep a good dress down! This dress may be frail but it still looks great, feels great, and fuels my imagination - WINNER. What about you? What do you do with your wrinkles holes? Trash, repair or camouflage?

Finally, this is a new ring O made for me. Steel and ruby. 

He doesn't use lost wax; he machines each piece.

To add visual interest he used a black finish and a brushed metal finish. 

The ruby is held in place with a tension mount. 

With so little surface contact, when the sun hits this ruby just right, 

it looks like an LED light. 

I'm not wearing the ring in these photos because it wasn't finished yet.

That's all. I guess it's Thanksgiving. Eat! EAT!! EEEAAT!!

I'll link this up on Sunday with Patti and her excellent Not Dead Yet Style party, Visible Monday. 

UH-OH, SHE HAS A BAD CASE OF...

BEING BAD.

       SHE IS BAD       

I'M OVER 53. I've EARNED ME THE

RIGHT TO SOME BIG BAD - 

we're talkin' 'tude.

I SPIT BAD FLOWERS. DON'T TRIP ON THEM;

MAKE A BOUQUET?

I'M WEARING CLOTHES. SOME THRIFTED, SOME GIFTS. ALL TERRIBLY, HORRIBLY BAD. 

Bad plaid. Very, very bad. Baaad.

say it like a goat

worn to the nordstrom opening, sep 19 post - 

farked tartan jacket, big bad pants.

adding to bella's linkup for plaidurday at citizen rosebud 

(edit: the link is not on anymore. oh well.)

AND

THERE'S CARROT IN MY SCARF/WRAP, MAYBE EVEN 

STUCK IN MY TEETH, SO I'M LINKING 

TO ANNE'S 52 PICK-ME-UP: CARROT/PERSEVERENCE

AT SPYGIRL

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THIS IS A NO-GUILT POST. FEEL FREE NOT TO COMMENT. 

TOO MANY POSTS TO KEEP UP. 

Edit: I had a birthday during 2015, but not terribly, horribly recently. All I can say is I'm not a Libra. I've just been thinking about age lately.

Silk wrap, satin, and sequins. And Hat Attack!

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!