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Mad, mad, mad (men) world.

February 16, 2011

Today was what we call, a culmination of yuck. Yes, that is the technical term for it, in case you were wondering. I was feeling sick with a headcold, I had a job interview and I was super tired and feeling generally anxious about my life. So what did I do about this? I decided to play dress ups. That’s one of my favourite things about fashion – the way that you can use it as battle armour to steel yourself if you’re going to a party where you don’t know anyone, or if you’re feeling a wee bit fragile you can do as I do and get ridiculously dressed up to make yourself feel better. So, sinuses blocked up, head feeling fuzzy and throat scratchy and sore: I threw on a vintage style dress, redredred lipstick, and did my hair up in a needlessly fancy manner.

And you know what? Once I had a pretty frock on, I actually felt way better about my life. I was, as they say, not at home to Mr Grumpyface. Do people say that? I definitely say that. The reason I feel you all need to know about my grumpy morning, is that this story is actually just a preamble to me devoting my love to I seriously love modcloth for all things, but especially the line that they do in pretty 50 & 60’s style frocks. As I was putting together what I think of as ‘the best of the modcloth 50 & 60 style pretty girl party dresses’ (it’s a catchy title, I know), the whole thing kind of came together as a story in my head so you are just going to have to bear with me on that front.Once upon a time there was a young, innocent little girl. She liked Alice in Wonderland, and sometimes like to wear dresses that looked like bubbles floating up into the sky. She was a little eccentric. One day, whilst pretending to be a giant bunch of the saddest blue flowers in all the world and strolling through the botanical gardens, she came across a man. The man claimed to love her, even when she began to spend weeks on end play-acting at being made of fine china in the most brilliant colour schemes in all the universe. But storm clouds were brewing on the horizen. Over time, she stopped dressing like antique tea-sets, and started dressing more and more like the respectable housewife she had somehow found herself to be.There was another woman. A woman in red. And when our lovely heroine found out, she was heartbroken. The woman in red was gorgeous; sophisticated and elegant, but still beautiful, witty and covertly sexual. The charming girl who dressed up as bubbles and teapots could never compete. And then, tragedy! Her husband suddenly was struck down with a mysterious (poisony) demise. Some people whispered at the funeral that her dress was far too sequined for such a sombre day. The girl snorted in an unladylike fashion at the suggestion: she didn’t care. Because how many occasions did one really have these days to wear a full-skirted, fully sequined black dress? Upsettingly few.She did however, tone it down for the reading of the will. But only slightly.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. February 17, 2011 10:40 pm

    Good god, who wouldn’t go for the woman in red?! I have been eyeing that bitch up for yonks 😉

    Also, I totally ended up getting dressed up too when I was sick. So what if that lonely hearts dress cut uncomfortably into my waist? I no longer felt like the snivelling sister of snotty hagsville.

  2. September 5, 2011 3:07 pm

    That last black dress is ridiculousy beautiful!

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