Category Archives: fashion

shoe discrimination

The average shoe size for an American woman is an 8.5. So I appeal to the majority of my audience when I ask: an 8 is too small, and a 9 is too big, right? That’s exactly why you wear an 8.5, right? Why ever would you subject yourself to ill-fitting shoes, when you can buy shoes in your size?

Now, take a look at my feet. I wear a 9.5… that is, I would wear a 9.5, but many manufacturers do not make shoes in my size. I am forced to squeeze into a 9, or flop around in a 10. If you’ve never needed to buy shoes in a 9.5 (and why would you? You wear a size smaller!), then you may not have noticed… but take a look in whatever apparel catalog you have handy. Look at some shoes, and see how many descriptions say something along the lines of “whole and half sizes 6-9, 10, 11.” Us ladies with 9.5 and 10.5 feet are discriminated against!

On a completely unrelated note: In my last flurry of eBay activity, I had posted a vintage dress (surprise, surprise) that I call the Waitress Dress:

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Black, with blue polka-dots, a roll collar, cuffed sleeves, and pockets big enough for a pad and pen… and maybe some Chinese take-out. I’ve had it for years, but I only wore it once. It’s too big on me, and looks kind of dumpy. Just like it looks on this dress form, in fact.

I don’t recall if I never before noticed the belt loops, or if I’d forgotten about them, but I saw them when I was looking over the dress to describe the auction listing, especially because the tiny tear that I put in the vintage fabric would have been covered by the belt, if one was included. The listing didn’t sell.

The local thrift store was have a half-price sale, and I bought a trio of vintage belts for a song.

Hey… (lightbulb)! How does this black patent belt look with that waitress dress? The answer: fabulous. The dress now appears to fit me, and is actually quite flattering. I wore it with my black, peep-toe Mary Janes with the oh-so-subtle black-and-blue houndstooth piping, and they look as though they were made for each other. Yay! All I need to do is stitch up the tear, and… new dress! Because, um, I was running short on dresses. Yeah.

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the halter top: results

Yeah, um, no. It started out pretty well:

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That’s it, trimmed out, pleated, and pinned into place. Not bad, for guessing! I attached a waistband (twice; I realized after the first attempt that I had unintentionally denied the laws of physics), but gave up before ever sewing on the pearl buttons. It just wasn’t draping properly, and it wasn’t going to. Alison took the carcass to make into a purse.

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I thought this would be a beautiful wedding ring

And I do very much love the sheer passion behind it. But truth be told, I’m too much of a hopeless romantic, and I want to grow old with someone… and I want to wear one ring for the duration. I’m not sure I want to be 80 and wearing a ring that reads “FUCKING BEAUTIFUL.” Or maybe that is fucking beautiful.

$295, exclusively from Kiki de Montparnasse. Click on the photo for details.

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A Way With Words

I often express my love for my friends in food, rather than words. (Scott’s Key lime pies come to mind. I’ve not given up on that project, but I think Scott is a little pie-d out. I’ll pick up again after Viva.) A couple of times a year, I prepare feasties for my nearest and dearest. Everything is made with care and thought and love. More on THAT subject in the coming weeks, as I prepare the annual Feaster Dinner. But…

I was thinking about all this tonight as I was looking through my eBay listings, and mentally trying to describe, in words, just how much I love this vintage dress:

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I love it like a perfect yellow cupcake with not-too-sweet, fluffy pink strawberry frosting. And maybe there are some little bits of strawberry in the cake itself, but not so much that it’s soggy. It is a PERFECT dress and a flattering cut… every single detail about it is darling, from the heart-shaped buttons to the rickrack trim to the zigzag waistline to the AMAZINGLY full skirt that a small child could get lost in for days. Even if I lost 15(!) pounds, which would officially put me at thin, I do not have the frame to fit into it. I am a Big Girl. I will never have a 24-inch waist. (Well, okay, if I lost a few pounds and got into some corset training. But that caveat is just to ward off the comments that would otherwise crop up below.) The listing has less than 24 hours to go as I write this, and there are no bids. I assume that it will be sniped in the final moments, but right now, I actually FEEL BAD FOR THE DRESS. Yes, I love the dress so much that I have anthropomorphized it, and assigned it human emotions. And right now, this dress feels like a wallflower when really, she’s prettier than a prom queen.

Now that I’m thinking about cupcakes… if you’re in the Denver area, please stop by the new Lovely Confections bakery, at Colfax and Steele, where the cupcakes are made with local and organic ingredients, and the owner makes the best not-too-sweet frosting I’ve had in YEARS. Full disclosure: the owner is a friend-of-a-friend. But that does not sway my opinion of her frosting, nor does it have anything to do with how she scored a full segment on the local CBS affiliate news program tonight.

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My regular readers know how long-winded my posts are, so when I tell you that a friend of mine left me speechless on Thursday; not only because I didn’t know what to say, but also because there was just no way I could say anything as eloquently as he’d just done… well, that carries some weight. I know that every word was meant with complete sincerity, likewise, I know he’s wrong about some points. But he pointed out that I’d say that. He can read me like a book. A really complicated book.

I laughed, I cried, I will read it again and again. It was better than Cats.

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The Blouse To Be

I’ve gotten as far as roughly draping fabric over my dress form (a thousand thank-yous to Erin for letting me have her old form):

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So I hope it will look a little something like that, but a bit neater and more trim, by the end of the week.

I have a fab-yoo-lous vintage dress that I bought specifically to wear to Viva this year, but I forgot that the very complicated top is too big (surprise, surprise). I culled it from the list of items to pack, but Erin and Megan got pouty. Of course, Erin immediately researched Denver metro to find me a tailor whom I would trust with my vintage gear (she needs a few items altered as well), and came up with a woman who comes highly recommended. I’ll try to remember to call her tomorrow and see if we can arrange something in my ever-shorter time frame. Not only does that dress need some adjusting, but I have some jeans that would work better as capris, and a vintage dress/jacket set that is twice my size. The seamstress would have to work a miracle on that one, but I think it’s worth having her take a look.

Overall, a good weekend. I saw friends, I spent some time with my mom, I made a dent in some of the housecleaning. Both cats snuck outside, and Supercat (who can leap a 6-foot fence in a single bound) was so surprised to be on the other side of the door that he forgot what to do once he got there. If he remains oblivious, I’m happy to let him out more often. C’mon, Springtime!

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