Trapped in Black

It's Monday nite. I've just watched The Fashion Police Oscars Special whilst eating a large bowl of lamb mince that I've tried to dress up by adding Moroccan Spices-in-a-Packet & pine nuts & raisins & figs.
I know that I'm Completely Off Topic (but as Regular Readers well know, this blog has a mind of its own) but I've come to realise that the World is divided into two types of people -
1. People who like to add fruit to savoury dishes & salads
&
2. Those who don't.
I belong to the first category.
I like nothing more than to add mango to a tuna salad.
Or team a red onion with a red papaya.
I could keep going. But I won't.

Instead, I want to talk about the first picture which you may have to scroll down to see. That's the trouble with the Blogger App, it won't allow me to sprinkle the pictures in with the text.
Anyway, I'm desperate to show you this Stop Worrying Road sign photographed by my almost favourite Still-Alive photographer, Tim Walker. I have it as Wallpaper on my new Skinny & Slippery iPhone 5.
If only all road signs contained more pieces of advice that I could quickly take heed of.

Like in the morning when I'm scurrying down the hill on my way to school loaded up with laptop, iPad, lunch pail & handbag , listening to Pool Old Whitney Houston belt out, "I Didn't Know My Own Strength" on my iPhone.
If only one of those people who hold up Stop Signs at schools could suddenly dart out in front of me with a large sign that said BREATHE, I'd be all set for the day.
I must give this some more thought & come up with more Advice-Giving Road Signs.

I've now gone on so long that sadly I've almost run out of steam.
And it's nearly bedtime.
But before I go, I'll just quickly walk you through the rest of the pictures which I assume are below.
Four of them are of me wearing the same old black dress or pretty much the same dress as part of our Lenten Wardrobe Challenge.
It is now Week 3 & there's still weeks & weeks to go. Already, we've had to remove two items from our tiny repertoire of items which brings the number down to eight.
The whole thing is unbearable.
Why O why, did I choose to go with the Sackcloth & Ashes Theme & wear black every day?
At least I now know why those Nasty Nuns who taught me were so cranky.
They were trapped in black.
It doesn't seem to matter how many strands of Toy Pearls I wrap around my neck or how many Toy Cartier bangles I wear, I'm still Trapped in Black.

The weekend however, is an entirely different story. Look look at me on Saturday at Bednobs & Broomsticks photographed with Brooke, a volunteer at Bednobs, who was so desperate to sell this Poor Old Neglected Bridal Dress that probably someone was jilted in that had been hanging around the shop for months, that he modelled it.
There's on or two many "that's" in that sentence. But I couldn't be bothered changing it.
Sadly, there were no takers. Must be jinxed.
I'm standing next to The Bride in a new Shades of Chanel gold & yes, black shirt that I bought from them earlier in the week. I felt like a Free Woman.

I must now hop into bed & dream of Advice Giving Road Signs.