There are clothes that women love on women, there are clothes that men love on women, and never the twain shall meet. Well, the fairer sex can usually go both ways, but the harder sex, if you will forgive the pun, can’t get behind certain styles: High waisted jeans. Bubble skirts. Gathered waists. Drop crotch.
So obviously, being away from Ruggy, I am consoling myself by making the things he will undoubtedly dislike, and reaping the praise of the female company I’m keeping at work. Is this to spite him? No! Never! Look, if my man’s not here to compliment me, what good is it wearing the curve hugging styles he adores? Am I going for appraising looks from strangers at bars? No! Never! I’m going for chic comfort, I am, says I! (And a nice Bourbon.)
This heavenly soft cotton jersey from Mood Fabrics online actually began its life with me as a self draped maxi dress. And when I say draped, I mean hacked and pinned and thrown on and off for want of my dress form, half a country away. It’s actually a panel print, with a dusky purple mountain scene. (Therefore, it does not count in my self-imposed ban on jersey, cause well OBVIOUSLY it’s a panel print. It’s my birthday week, all bets are off.) The initial dress was far slinkier, and by the time it was fitted it hugged my curves in ALL. The wrong places. One seam actually landed right across the horizon line of Mount Crackatoa, creating the stunning illusion that my waist, hip and abdomen was a single redwood forest. At this point I actually should have gifted it to any number of long legged dancers at the workplace, but instead, I hacked off the bodice, turned the skirt upside down, decided not to fight the flow, and draped a pear shaped number.
Right now, Ruggy is looking at this concoction and seeing this:
MOUNT SAINT OONABALLOONA
Meanwhile, out for drinks with Tinkerbell, she sees this:
WILL YOU MAKE ME A SEXY COMFY NUMBER LIKE THAT PLEASE
Me, I’m in the middle. I don’t really shy away from shapes that might not, erm, accentuate my shape…but I do think this gives my trunk a bit more junk than necessary. Ah well. It feels delicious, and looks dressy when paired with the right kicks.
No, these are not the right kicks. These are neon yellow wedge sneakers that Ruggy will hate even more than this dress. When the cat’s away…
Will such items journey back with me to New York, or will they end up on a Tinkerbell? Only time will tell.