t's nearly spring, that magical time of year when you can finally break out the rain boots for rain instead of calf-deep snow, and think about April in Paris, and look for excuses to eat chocolate instead of going out for a run. Oh, and hear fashion news about the coming fall.
I have always loved clothes and spent hours designing them in my head. I'll watch old movies that really have nothing to recommend them plotwise as long as the wardrobes are good, and I have laminated vintage sewing pattern catalogue pages on my bathroom wall. However, I do not see the point of Vogue, or fashion shows generally. I gather one is meant to look at pictures of extreme fashion and ferret out details that translate to: Red belts! Alligator accessories! Big shoulders! and then buy those things, and wear them.
My own policy is to know what looks good on me and wear that. So I was pleased to read, by way of being amused by the Fug Girls liveblogging the Oscars last night, that updos are in for fall. Updos may or may not look good on me, but they are terribly practical, and by fall my hair should have grown long enough to have them again. Now to find a warm hat that accommodates same...
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