September 24, 2009

A Fashion Statement




Looking down on the CALIFORNIAN from the ferry BERKLEY. Illustration, 2009.


Himself: Applied for a couple of jobs, got a call back on one, fixed dinner, and bailed out Mrs. G when the alarm on Grumpy went off without a clicker and the shut off button didn’t work. Answered an email about job specifics at eight at night.

Herself: Loosening up in class. Bailed out of the noisemaker business by G. Spending my four times a year inheritance and luxury pittance at a bookstore. Oh, I appreciate every extra penny. Both G and I talked with an expert about Ba. The solution is some form of action.

Consensus: Leave the notes open and delete as I go. I prefer open access myself.

Reading: Phaidon’s The Fashion Book, an encyclopedic reference work to the fashion industry. Fascinating.

Balance: Loosening up with a bit of paint and a pen.

I’m late like the Mad Hatter.

I have my poetry workshop at eleven and not one word written. I confess.

As I climbed into bed last night, the design of the poem appeared….and the first words stayed right there in my mind until I began writing this morning. They fell right out onto the computer, and I welcomed them.

Yesterday, I had pored over photographs and brief entries from Phaidon’s The Fashion Book interested in the industry via Project Runway and the film September Issue. I will never make a fashion statement of any sort, but a tiny fragment of interest was stirred by Project Runway winner Christian Siriano’s outrageously delightful designs.

There’s another volume that caught my eye at the book store; the Vogue version of life in clothing since Worth. I hovered not quite wanting to spend all my trust fund pennies on two similar books.

Who knows where interests will wander.

“The hot winds of fall pour in…
Schaiparelli like...” I begin writing.

2 comments:

  1. Glad to hear the words came to you...

    Sorry, I haven't been commenting much; this Sunday is my fund raising tea party for the community projects I work on with others in Kimilili, Kenya. Besides coffee and oodels of cake, we got all sorts of stuff for a raffle. Cross fingers people show up.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love when that happens to me. It's no work at all, and I usually like the results better than when I have to work at it. (I think that's why they call it the "muse.")

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