Thursday, July 15, 2010

If I said I was Writing I'd be Lying...

I know I should be up scribing but instead I'm lolling all over my desk.  Too much in love with:

 My new Nikki Gabriel knit from Cottage Industry. It was kindly constructed for me by Joe's Nanny (paternal grandmother, that is, not the  foreign girl I'd like to employ to wrangle him). I don't think she'd mind me revealing that she used a bit of language in the process.  The bespoke wool wasn't available in time to get it knitted up for my birthday, so she went Alapaca hunting for an approximation. Apparently measurements in the pattern would have eased the way a bit.  I hear that pattern and wool kits are in-store now. I also like my construction upside down, and folded out into a broad shawl collar.  Lots of ways to play and featherlight to touch despite the actual weight.

The pre-customised flannie from Tallangatta Op Shop. 
It reminds me of the de-cuffing I gave my Ormond College rugby top back in 1990. I had no idea I was committing sacrilege, but I did start a grungy little trend.  Grass green county kid, I chose Ormond for the ivy and the sandstone. Didn't bargain on the ivy league thing.  Got my head shaved in O week.  All deliciously downhill from there.  After 20 years of nightmares about returning, I've bought a ticket to the Alumni Dinner in the great hall in October.  Orpheus descends...

The vintage Sally Smith skirt.  I fell for Sally's work back in 2001, when I bought a sand wool/linen asymmetric skirt and straight wide legged slacks from her store.  My brother was dating a recruitment girl at the time.  We went to QBar.
"Dance in your new pants and I'l give you a job." she said, minutes before the place was raided.  15 minutes, to be precise.  I know because I had just hit the dance floor when the lights went on and a policeman announced there was going to be raid in 15 minutes.  Then we were turfed out onto Oxford Street and into a bank of TV cameras.   Funny how they do things in the silver city. 

I got the job, I got promoted, and I wore and wore those separates, sometimes both at the same time. They (along with a pair of cut-price Versace grey flannel platform Mary Janes) carried me through my corporate moment and right out the other side.  I was working off a 22 grand credit card debt when the heavy denim skirt came to me, label on, in a Wodonga thrift store. It's been in storage for a while, but it's out again.

Now. Will I or  won't I wear this get up to do the kinder drop off at Mitta Mitta?

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