Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Those Swingin' Sixties






I am a woman of a certain age and coming up on another changing of the decades soon. What concerns me most is maintaining my health, but what comes as a very close second is "What should I wear?" Just because a person can fit into certain clothes doesn't mean they should wear them. You know what I'm saying?

I don't want to look like I'm trying to be 20 years old again, but I don't want to look like a character from the Dinette Set. 

Some days it's hard.




I've been seeing ads for sites that send clothes for you to try on after filling out a questionnaire and giving information to a stylist and thought I would try it out. I went with Stitch Fix and got my first box last week. Expected to be disappointed, but all the pieces work with my wardrobe and what I need to wear for certain events.

Now, I'm not gonna lie, a couple of pieces I disliked when I saw them and had to try on a few times. There's not one clothing item I would have picked out for myself, which when you think about it is helpful since I'm looking for some changes.

From R to L, there's a wrap-style dress, a maxi skirt, a short summer dress, and a pair of cropped pants. There's a 5th piece, a black racer-back blouse pictured below, but already confiscated by my daughter. The. First. Night.

The wrap dress is a no-brainer. Fits well, love the colors, but wouldn't have thought it would look good on me. Purple and orange are not colors in my closet. "Orange may be the new black," but it's not a good color on me. That's what keeps me from my dream job as an international jewel thief and hanging with Pierce Brosnan. This dress though? Fabulous.




The maxi skirt is way outside anything I would wear, for one thing because I'm short and don't want to look stumpier. I immediately thought, "Nope." But, it's very comfortable and stretchy material, my hubby loves it, and it looks good with a short sleeveless jean shirt that I own. I've got 2 or 3 other tops that will work and I believe I can carry this over into the fall season. Wore it already to a friend singing Joni Mitchell's Blue album at a local Catholic church-turned-craft beer brewery.

I loved the print and the material on the summer dress and it looked great on the hanger, but thought a bit dumpy on me. Not enough of a waistline. I was going to use a belt and, again, the sleeveless jean shirt looked cute over it. Sweater and leggings in cooler temps...but, HoneyHaired will be taking this also and I think it will work well for her in San Fran.



These pants...HATED them. Didn't like the material. Not a cropped pants chick. Tried them on, felt weird, had a gap in the back. A definite send back. Tried them on again the next day, Hubby saw nothing wrong with them. No gapping. Went the extra step and tried them on with my own tops and shoes. These pants go with everything. Honestly. They dress up, they dress down. They're comfortable. Wore them in 90 degree heat and probably equal humidity to lunch with my mother&sister-in-law at a seafood restaurant. I ate and drank to my heart's content and these pants were still comfortable! Consider me a convert.

So, with all 5 items I'm looking at about $50/ item. Way pricier than what I usually pay. I get a lot of my stuff at Good-Will, second-hand stores or hand-me-downs from my girls, which is lovely though I've ended up with a lot of clothes that don't go with each other. And, they're all kind of similar. This Stitch Fix selection has been helpful to pull my things together and get more use out of clothes I already own.

I don't know if anyone else out there has this insecurity about dressing and what to wear as we're getting older, and wanting to still enjoy their clothes. There's lots else of much greater import to ruminate on after 60 trips around the sun. Some days though I simply think better if I like what I'm wearing.




Sunday, July 26, 2015

Sunday in CinCity

From Blossoms

by Li-Young Lee





From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward   
signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into   
the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.


There's a cool breeze coming in through the window. The cicadas are singing. I'm 5 minutes away from going for a morning walk to stretch out muscles from Saturday morning Zumba and sitting at the opera for 3 hours last evening. Turandot. Didn't know the plot, but everyone would recognize the gorgeous piece of music in the third act. Brings tears to your eyes music.

Neurodramaville has been busy. The motor vehicle collisions, the unhelmeted motorcyclists, the driving while texting and the damaged that are left in their wake, the falls, the tumors, the broken blood vessels. So many lives on a different trajectory than when they woke up that day.

Hubby and I are checking out flights to the Pacific coast for September. MissNewOrleans is doing travel nursing and has her first assignment in Washington state & Miss HoneyHaired will be in California for her next co-op. Trying to figure out if we can see them both in the short amount of time we have off work.

Until then, we'll read the Sunday papers, eat some bagels and listen to the cicadas. Appreciate this day and that we still have both feet on our path for right now.


Thursday, July 23, 2015

Evening at a Country Inn

by Jane Kenyon





From here I see a single red cloud
impaled on the Town Hall weather vane.
Now the horses are back in their stalls,
and the dogs are nowhere in sight
that made them run and buck
in the brittle morning light.

You laughed only once all day--
when the cat ate cucumbers
in Chekhov's story...and now you smoke
and pace the long hallway downstairs.

The cook is roasting meat for the evening meal,
and the smell rises to all the rooms.
Red-faced skiers stamp past you
on their way in; their hunger is Homeric.

I know you are thinking of the accident--
of picking the slivered glass from his hair.
Just now a truck loaded with hay
stopped at the village store to get gas.
I wish you would look at the hay--
the beautiful sane and solid bales of hay.

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Heavy Summer Rain

by Jane Kenyon



The grasses in the field have toppled,
and in places it seems that a large, now
absent, animal must have passed the night.
The hay will right itself if the day

turns dry. I miss you steadily, painfully.
None of your blustering entrances
or exits, doors swinging wildly
on their hinges, or your huge unconscious
sighs when you read something sad,
like Henry Adams's letters from Japan,
where he traveled after Clover died.

Everything blooming bows down in the rain:
white irises, red peonies; and the poppies
with their black and secret centers
lie shattered on the lawn. 


(Brutus, August 2001-July 2015)