this imploding heart

Don't they don't they do my love?

So far, this week has been conversations like: "What are you going to wear?" "What are we going to do about the plants?" "What if I'm one of those people who dies in a heat wave?" "Crappity Ass! What am *I* going to fucking wear?"

It's not like we're playing dress up to go to the city, it's like this: Seattle has a very mild climate. It doesn't get too cold (no snow), it doesn't get too hot (I own 2 tank tops, 4 t-shirts, 10 dresses and no less than 45 sweaters. I'm not fucking kidding. Ask Tiny. I have a whole separate closet for Sweaters and Evening Gowns.)

All my clothes are built for a sweater to go over the top and a slip underneath. I'm not sure anything can stand alone and still be fabulous. Really, that mustard brown number...you know, sort of the 'Annie' co-orphan styled thing...but without the complimentary socks and cardigan? I'm not entirely confident.

So I may have to play it up like those rappers who wear 3 pc suits everywhere. Suffering, and possibly passing out, for style.

On second thought, maybe I'll hit up the fabric store and fulfill one of my secret dreams. I'll make myself 7 little terry-tank dresses with matching handbags. All the same pattern, but in 7 different colors. I'll finally have a uniform!

Posted by Sonya at April 27, 2004 03:26 PM