First, because I'm still having trouble Typing this blog. For proof that I'm not just Whining, look no further than that Rogue Underlined 'O' that is peeking out from the photo of the back of me above. Every time I tried to type, it DID THAT. Why why why??????
Second, because I've just seen the World's Roundest Butt worn by a reality star called Coco on this week's edition of 'Fashion Police'. Coco is the instigator of 'Thong Thursday', a movement on Twitter dedicated to inciting Women of all walks of Life to join together in Solidarity every thursday by wearing a G-String.
Thankfully, my butt was Safely Tucked Away inside a thrifted black 'Armani' skirt in the Behind Shot, above. Even though that this is supposed to be a G-Rated Blog (in the slim chance that one of my students might read it), I can't help but mention that I would Never Knowingly Wear a Thong.
Double Yuck with Nuts sprinkled on the Top. To me, it's like being sawn in half by Elasticised Nylon.
So it's not a Morality Issue, it's a Comfort One, although to me there is something Slightly Discomforting about being dressed like a Porn Star underneath my Middleagedteacher Outfit.
Alert Alert! Quelle Horreur! What am I doing wrong? Suddenly, the photo of the Front of Me which was sitting here suddenly deleted itself . I have re-uploaded it & of course it is now totally Out of Order at the beginning of the Entry. I do hope you can follow.
All I can say, Fellow Bloggers, is Beware of Pressing 'Enter'.
And here's the Front View. I'm kind of Crowing because I bought the jacket last friday morning when I made a Mad Dash into 'BednobsEtc' before making a late start for school.
It was v. cheap. In fact, soo cheap I can't say. And...... it's an Italian designer label that nobody I bragged to about it had heard of. And clearly, the people who price the stuff at 'BednobsETc' hadn't heard of it either.
It's called Byblos. I wonder if you know it? Perhaps you've got a whole wardrobe of Byblos outfits.
Anyway, I just did a Google search on it. Gianni Versace once designed for it which cheered me up No End.
I'm also wearing black patent leather Nun's shoes. Patent leather is totally my Preferred Shoe Material. They always remind me of Frank Sinatra who wore them on stage with his dinner suit.
George, one of my students, told me this morning that she can always hear me trotting along the crowded corridors because my Heels make such a loud noise. I took it as a compliment.
It's been almost a year since Me & Trixie began bringing our lunch to school every day. And I'm pleased to report that so far, we haven't missed a beat. In fact, I'm such a Dedicated Lunch Bringer that this morning I forgot mine & trudged back home at recess to get it.
You may wonder why I bring my lunch:
1. Oprah always brought her Own Lunch to work. But I guess she got her Special Chef to make it for her. I am my Own Special Chef.
2. I enjoy the Illusion of Control that only Bringing YOur Own Lunch can Create. I am Mistress of my own Lunchtime.
3. It saves time. Although I still have to go & buy My Regulation Two Lattes each day from 'Zinc'.
4. It is supposed to save me money. But I'm not entirely sure that it does. For instance, look closely at my lunch in the photo, above. Note that it has some Red Food Items in it. Tomatoes & capsicum. That capsicum cost me $4.32 at 'Woolworths'. That's $14.99 a kilo. Again, why why why? Is it the GFC? Global Warming? Greedy Food People? All three?
A Commitment.
From now on, I'm only going to buy vegetables that are no more than $2.99 a kilo. I hope to hell that doesn't mean only eating Swedes & Parsnips. Not that there's anything wrong with them, particularly parsnips, which can have a Slightly Nutty flavour if your taste buds are Highly Sharpened.
5. I like putting food into plastic containers. It creates a sorely needed Illusion of Control.
As a twelve or perhaps thirteen year old, I did a rousing rendition of 'Big Spender' myself, which included Synchronised Butt Movements that I learned from watching Shirley Bassey on TV. It seems that this blog entry has a mind of its own & is determined to keep coming back to Butts. Left to my own devices I would never mention them, except to say that I don't wear jeans because my Mum said that my Bum Looked too Big in them. But I've told you that story more than once.
AJ has just returned from three months in Europe. Here she is below, looking a little Jet Lagged on saturday. I hope she won't be Too Cross at Me for publishing this photo. I just couldn't help myself. And she knows how I've got Low Impulse Control.
The Weary Traveller is sitting on the floor of my lounge room with gifts that all featured Le Tour Eiffel laid out before me. I was thrilled to pieces.
Table Napkins, miniature papier mache Eiffels & Eiffel Glasses.
Hmm,.....I wonder what the Tower might symbolise? I must ask my Senior Class.
.Let me leave you with a Small Food Related Snippet. My daughter Maeflower is keen to help me with my Food Economy Drive. Today she sent me her week's Nitely Dinner Plan which gave me some much needed Food for Thought as to how I can best maximise my Food Dollar. Certainly Not by buying any more four dollar Capsicums. Upon waking tomorrow morning, I will make my own plan, which will be mercifully lacking Swedes & Turnips.
2 comments:
The lunch container would be enough to make me take my lunch. I have a little thing about containers... let's not analyze that.
Darla
I would like to tell you a cautionary tale regarding not wearing jeans because someone else has told you that you look somehow unsightly.
My first Real Adult Relationship began in college. I was completely over-the-moon; he was quite fetching (he looked like a cross between a young Bryan Ferry and David Cassidy), wicked smart, liked good music, had a beguilingly dry sense of humor, and I was his junior by 6 years. I thought the world of him. (you can sense danger already, can't you?)
At the tender age of 18, you don't always understand what motivates people, no matter how worldly you fancy yourself to be. I was no exception.
Hence, I was absolutely crushed one night after a party when he told me that really, jeans made me look FAT and that I should NEVER, EVER be caught dead in them. I was mortified.
In my rattled insecurity, I tossed out ALL of my jeans, and still felt fat all of the time. (which I wasn't- 110# on a 5'6" frame- a figure which I would now commit CRIMES to have...)
Our relationship lasted for 2 years. Afterward, I continued my boycott of jeans, thinking they made me look dreadful. He got married to another woman, I got married to another man. After we both split up with those people, he and I reconnected through a friend and started to date again.
One night at dinner, he asked:
"Why don't you ever wear jeans?"
I was stunned. I replied: "Because YOU told me I looked fat and awful in them".
He started to laugh. Hard. I queried him as to what was SO damned amusing.
He told me: "You are an idiot. Are you serious? I told you that because you looked incredibly HOT in jeans, and I didn't want anyone else looking at you. Jeans made you look GREAT."
I was amazed. I could not believe that someone whom I cared SO deeply about could misuse my trust that way.
Somewhat not surprisingly, he subsequently revealed himself to be an absolute lying, cheating cad.
So now that I've made a short story long, perhaps you should reconsider what your Mum said.
Was it because she was afraid of you getting too much attention from the opposite sex?
I think you need to make your own determination. I've never seen any evidence that jeans would not look absolutely fantastic on you. You DO slavishly attend boot camp, after all!
Might I suggest trying a nice mid-rise with a teeny bit of lycra in the blend?
Denim Della?
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