Purple and Red

The day after the board meeting is an opportunity to wear vibrant colors, tight pants, to fly a tiny little freak flag!

Beatle Boots!

Wow, that's just CRAZY!

Yellow and Green, How do I Love Thee?

Let me count the ways.  I love thee in a Vera Wang tank, a Macy's crocheted cardigan, and in Talbot's cords.

I also love thee in velveteen and ponte, and I even love thee when I'm discarding thee. Tomorrow's post will be green and gold, which is practically the(e) same.

Hang on, abrupt segue approaching. 

Over the weekend I started thinking, "You know that feeling you get when you're getting ready for a first date, and feeling a few butterflies? How it might be great, it might be dull, it might at least involve a nice dinner?" Well, I HATE that feeling. That feels like ANXIETY to me. That feels eerily similar to some of the board meetings I've been to in the last year.

Now, I get that many people like that thrill of anticipation. There are situations where I like it too - when I'm about to go on stage, for example. Whether I'm acting or talking to a crowd, that frisson is pleasant and energizing. It makes me sharper and more enthusiastic and more entertaining.  

But that is because I know what I'm doing on stage. I don't know what I'm doing in relationships; or at least, everything I've learned goes out of my head at that moment and I become a fourteen-year-old again. I want to do what I'm GOOD at. And I fear the outcome of dating. Stage = applause, in my experience, and dating = tears. Public speaking is cake, and dating is  . . . something less tasty. Or eating too much fried food. Oh sure, it's fun for a while, but you sure feel lousy later. Sorry, I may have lost the metaphor there.

I also note that I love picking out what I'm going to wear on stage. I love the "costume". On the other hand, for years I wore the same thing on first dates; dark jeans and a black silk top. It was a uniform, concealing rather than revealing.

So for now, I'm going to stick to dressing up and going to work. 

I Want To Go To There

Jon Hamm made me pee my pants on 30 Rock last night. "Banjo!" I will just be saying that randomly from now on. Also high-larious, the sixties news skit in which a "girl with a nice shape" appears to have kidnapped the male reporter. The full episode, including different east and west coast versions, is available on Hulu if you need more of that Hamm sandwich.

In other news, I want this jacket:

Sundance catalog Wellesley Ruched Blazer

And I have wanted this jacket for almost a year (that's when I ripped the page out of the catalog). I was looking wistfully at the picture last night and wondering if waiting a year was long enough to "earn" it. Good reviews on the web site, marked down to half price, I could TRY it, right? The only jacket I have remotely like this is a red tweed affair which is kind of big on me and which you will be viewing shortly. I'll keep you posted. 

Thursday's outfit was also based on a clipping from a catalog, except I reversed the colors of jacket and shirt.

The jacket is a venerable suede number that was one of my first eBay purchases. The front has a row of metal snaps that make a wonderfully satisfying sound when you rip them open. A pale pink winter-weight jacket is a rare chimera indeed. I used to have a pink wool crepe three button jacket that I wore until the lining fell apart, because I couldn't find anything to replace it. Now I'm wearing this pink suede jacket into grimy obscurity (cleaning suede is never worth the huge expense).

Underneath I have on a beautifully made Talbot's wing-collar blouse. The placket and cuffs are a fine herringbone trim and the sleeves are three quarter length. I don't wear it often, but it is just too nice a shirt to retire.

The necklace is a slice of golden agate that a friend put on a chain for me 30 years ago. I have very few sentimental possessions, and they're all in my jewelry box.