Tag Archives: vintage

the dress

posted by:  audra

the other…week, i went to see a very dear friend at the vintage store at which she’s employed.  my first plan of action was to see her face; the second was to find something spectacular to wear for my annual day of worship–my birthday. 

right away i found the most perfect piece:  1940s (or whatever) baby-blue sheath dress, beaded all over, in really good condition.  capped sleeves, mid-calf length.  it had some ‘foo’ on it; some discoloration from years of wear, or a champagne toast gone awry.  the hem was a little frayed, but nothing a sharp pair of scissors wouldn’t fix.  the best part?  it was under twenty bucks.  believe it!  i was in love. 

i’m against trying garments on in stores.  i hate it.  i would rather deal with the hassle of returning or exchanging than to go into a tiny fitting room, smelling of moist armpits & vadge sweat, fucking up my hair, only to look into an unflattering mirror intensifying my cellulite under fluorescent lighting.  gross.  who wants to mess with that? 

so, i hold the dress up to my waist.  i’ve learned the fine art of holding things up to me, to see if they fit, without trying them on.  i’ve always been 100% accurate.  did you know that if you hold a dress (or whatever) up to your front, and can fit it halfway around you, then it will fit?   the waist of the blue baby fit perfectly.  i pulled it across my chest.  again, perfect. 

the dress makes it safely back to our home, where i try on my other treasures first.  everything’s good.  i step into the dress, and it hugs my hips in a non-hideous way, making me look thinner somehow.  the top fits as well.  the shoulder parts fall in just the right places. 

fuck.  the zipper won’t go up.

it won’t.  even.  move.

my back is FAT.  my back!  fat! 

i’m spilling over like a heavy-loaded fruit tree.

whatever.  stupid fucking vintage garments & their fucked up proportions! 

filthy tight, the dress is filthy.

but look at these fucking beads!

i went hunting in my closet for something else to wear.  remember that short, flared skirt i used to wear?  the black one?  kind of woolly?  yes, here it is.  i pull it on. 

i can’t get it fucking buttoned.  at ALL.   i don’t even want to think  of attempting to put on my favorite size 6  halter dress from several years ago.

but it’s feeling so damn tight tonight.

so, okay.  look.  i’ve been over this a gabillion times, but for god’s sake!  i truly believe that i will be forever self-sabotaging myself.  when we first moved in september, i took walks.  all the time.  sometimes two, three times a day.  i’d get up early.  i worked out.  jillian michels 30-day shred!  i was so sore the first week, i could barely move.  my weight was the lowest it’s been in 2 years.   my muffin-top was gone. 

then the weather got sort of crappy, & i started sleeping in.  i skipped working out, and sat looking for a job instead.  i drank a LOT of beer.  i may have had some cheese, too. 

is this common, the up-down weighty issues?  i’ve done it for as long as i can remember…and when i was at a weight close to 130lbs seven years ago with a shaved head, i didn’t think i’d ever gain weight again.  but i did, lost it, gained it back, about five times over.  so what if i fancy hot dogs, bacon & a pat of butter every now & then?  if i’ve said it once, i’ve said it seventy-seven times: i’m not an over-eater!  i’m an over-drinker.  maybe my food choices aren’t the best all the time.  and i’m lazy.  do you even know what kind of damage that combination can do to your chins?!

last year my goal was to lose a bunch of weight, get skinny & bleach my hair to look like debbie harry in the 70s.  do you know how many layers of black hair-dye i have on my head?!  too many to ever be that blonde.  perhaps i need something a little more realistic, like fitting into the dress?  or, at least my old, flared black skirt.  gross…is this me making the new years resolutions already?!

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Filed under Diary, fashion

no need to slit your wrists just yet…

posted by:  audra

how is it that you’ve been able to carry on?!  seriously, we’ve been super-lazy & really uninspired lately…combine that with being busy, & then a whole stream of unfortunate events…well, it just leads to lameness.

but fret no more.

i have news.  sort of. well, at least i have something moderately entertaining to talk about…?

following what could have possibly been one of the more poor quality weeks i’ve had in awhile, i get a speeding ticket on my way into work friday.   my driving record is clean, & was only following the flow of traffic at 70 mph in a 55 zone.  big fucking deal, yeah?  oh, this cop was quite the  ass!  he was short, really, really unattractive, pudgy, & had a real attitude on him.  i believe it was his personal mish to ruin some swell girl’s friday…even though he told me to ‘have a nice day’.

wait–i should’ve prefaced the story a little better:  i was feeling like such a bad person last friday, that i gave money to a homeless lady i see on the freeway ramp all the time.  if she were to clean up a spot, i think she’d make a damn fine dame judy dench stunt double!  anyway, i just needed something to make me feel better…even if it was supporting her meth habit.  so i did something nice, & was expecting karma to reciprocate the generosity, & went about my way.

but that didn’t happen.

fuck you, officer douche bag!  you’re a dick & you successfully ruined my friday.  i hope you’re happy & i hope you went home to find that someone has sewn rotting sardines into all your draperies.  have a nice day.  next!

but wait again–it gets better!  saturday sam & i went out to see some friends we haven’t seen in like, 4 years.  we get drinks, giggle uncontrollably & fun ensues.  i had maybe 4 or 5 ketel martinis.  extra dry, please, & keep it clean…a martini is the only thing i don’t like dirty.  i haven’t had any hard liquor in some time, & had actually stopped drinking it in favor of beer or wine, because i tend to get a wee bit too tipsy.  you see, good vodka tastes like water & i really, really like water.

the 7 of us pile into a cab & we head to a show down the way.  i’m sitting in the very back, so i’m last to get out.  apparently, i’m way excited to get into another bar & get myself a drink, so i step a little hastily out onto the little running board (or whatever).  whoopsies!  i start to fall (but not all the way down this time, thanks baby jesus).  someone catches me (i’m still unclear who, but thank you…justin?!).  i blurt out something like, “oh my god!  i’m totally not that drunk, i swear!  my heel got caug….”

someone (again, not sure who…it’s all a blur from the trauma) says to me that my heel has broken off.  what?

not just any heel.

my favorite-favorite red marc jacobs heels, peep toe, nearly mint condition, never had a scratch or had to get them resoled, deliciously tall towers of shoe perfection.

broken.

even the pad on the heel came off!  of course, instead of just taking off my shoes like any normal person would do, i walked tall & acted like nothing had happened.  i think i pulled it off pretty well…but i did have to hobble just a little bit…and fill every single bar patron in on my ordeal.  strangers even — the bartender, a plastic surgeon, a cute boy named garrett…

it was rough, but i made it through the evening.  i have to say, once we got back to the car, it made it easier to drive not having a heel on my right foot.  i was still upset though.  what’s a girl to do?

vintage shopping!  sunday afternoon sam & i dragged ourselves out of  hangover hideaway & went to my favorite vintage store.  i had a good feeling about this trip, because just friday night i dreamt that i went a’vintaging & found loads & loads of amazing stuff.   well kids, i didn’t find loads of amazing stuff…but what i did find were these things:

  • handbag i wanted in december.  it’s super cute, a bit too small for me, but 1950s flat flip top handbag with a mirror inside.  the reasons i didn’t buy it were that it’s a little beat up, & the mirror is unglued.  they still had it.  i almost bought it.  almost.  i couldn’t deal with the disintegrating leather.
  • blue & black striped jumpsuit, satin, circa 1985.  so rad!  i decided against it though.  really, how many times can you be seen in something like that?
  • black 1960s audrey hepburn-esque sleeveless cocktail dress.  super cute & doesn’t exacerbate my extra cushioning too much.  i actually bought this one.
  • tab hunter on vinyl.  i think this one speaks for itself.
  • super rad vintage ruched clutch, black leather, 1980s.  it’s tiny & awesome & looks like something lorna doom would carry.  i love it & am wringing my hands bloody in anticipation for wearing it out.
  • ready?  okay.  i found the raddest 1960s fetish stilettos.  i tried just one on in the store, & had to have them!  black patent deliciousness.  obscenely tall…they put all my other heels to shame.  i measured.  6″(!).  sixxx inchesss.    that means that when i put them on, it makes me nearly 6’0” tall…except i can’t stand in them.  they are literally so fucking tall that i can’t straighten my knees.  if they had some sort of platform on them, they would totally be more wearable, but they don’t.  so, they either become sitting-shoes or sex-shoes.  i’m cool with either.

here are the shoes…i know you’re dying to see them!  i swear on chanel, they don’t look half as tall in the photograph as they are in person.  trust me.  i know tall shoes & can walk in them better than flats.

jealous yet?  you should be.  sam & i then went out for yet more ketel martinis & beer & wreaked havoc at the porn store.  i needed something to go with my shoes, of course.

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