She almost bought me. She grabbed me right away, a woman intent on wearing the wrong dress. I made her pleasant pear shape an outright gourd. My blue-green yellowed her olive skin. That witch of shop assistant said “You’re stunning!” Which was technically true, but not in the way she meant. Thank goodness for her husband. He took one look at me on her and laughed. “Celia, no,” he said. “Where’s a red one? Find a red one. You’re gorgeous in red.” He kissed her, and the assistant went scurrying. She took home a plunging red number. I’m still here.

Everything about her is crisp. There’s me, the crisp white uniform, and her crisp white cap (both heavily starched). Crisp instructions, with crisp sharp consonants. Crisp movements, nothing wasted. A crisp nod to the doctor on his rounds. If you hugged her, she’d crackle like a piece of cellophane wrapping. At least, that’s what I always thought. But then that boy, just back from Korea, grabbed her hand and squeezed it. Grabbed it with his only hand, the one missing three fingers. She finished changing his dressings (gently, not crisply at all) and ran to the closet, where she cried.

… is the glass dress. Thanks to Beth for the link!

This is called "Evening Dress with Shawl", and is by the artist Karen LaMonte, and is at the Corning Museum of Glass (click image above to virtually visit) which has this to say about her:

Her subject is the dress, which is always life-size, whether it is for an infant, a young girl, or a woman. She explores a variety of styles of clothing in her work, from stiff and frilly Victorian dresses to idealized classical drapery. Her fashion choices reflect changing notions of beauty, how women view themselves, and how they have been viewed by others.

More images of LaMonte's work are here.

The conceit of making transparent glass sculptures of garments that are supposed to be opaque really appeals to me … the dresses are gorgeous and the molding process she uses, combined with the glass, serves to make the absent bodies that wore them somehow more present (if that makes any sense).

Last night was terrible. Instead of reclining languidly on a chaise, cigarette (in holder) in one hand, scotch-rocks on the other, she was hopping up all night. She got people drinks. She took coats. She even hugged people. I am not a dress for hugging—it breaks the beads. I used to belong to her sister, who had people she paid to do that kind of thing. Catch her mixing her own drinks! I suppose it’s my fault, for going out of style … I thought I was a classic, until I wasn’t anymore. So now there’s hugging. And cheese logs.

Usually by Dec. 20 there's at least one person (Hi, Dad!) whose Xmas present has me completely stumped, and often there's more than one such unfortunate recipient on my list. These are usually the folks of whom one could say that the last thing they need is MORE STUFF … but by Dec. 20 I'm already in panic mode, and I forget that.

Not any more … there's this great new site, Changing The Present — it's one-stop charitable gift-giving for everyone on your list. They have not only my beloved Heifer International sheep, but all sorts of other non-things. Environmental causes. Help for the disabled. Women's issues (which are really human issues, but never mind … ) This image here is shown to illustrate that $50 will educate 100 girls in the Congo. One hundred girls!

They include all the usual suspects charities, so it's extremely convenient — one cart, one payment, one site. And you can create a registry or a wishlist, too, if you want to be on the receiving end of some girl-educatin' giftiness.

So if it's reaching critical decision time on your holiday shopping list, go try it out … it can't be worse than this gift (from the site's Stupid Gifts list) — the inflatable dog hat. (This dog must have been sedated; I've never met a dog who wouldn't have had this half-eaten by the time it took you to click the shutter on the camera!)

You know, at first I was happy about being worn so often. I was proud. I was barely dry from being washed before she had me under the iron again, and then off we went. Everywhere. The grocery store, coffee with the girls, a Saturday afternoon movies with him … it was fun, for a while, but then it got exhausting. Go, go, go, with my pockets full. A lipstick, some mints, a golf pencil and the daily list. A bobby pin. A washer to replace. So what else could I do? I developed a hole. I needed the rest!

note: dress in picture does not actually have any holes.

I believe that in order to have any cred as a "fashion blogger" it is necessary to gush over hideously expensive designer handbags at regular intervals, up to and including daily, and I admit I have remiss in attending to this duty.

And even posting about this one probably won't help, because first, it's from Naturalizer, so it's not "designer" and second, it's $29 on sale. Yep, $29, marked down from $69. Plus, free shipping!

Now, I'm not clear on whether this bag is absolutely 100% leather. (I asked the customer service people, and they said "yes, it is leather" but it might be bonded leather. It doesn't feel vinyl-y, though.) However, it has the features I need, which including being large enough to double as a laptop bag, outside pockets for my Treo and iPod, and a zip that closes the entire bag at the top. (I hate putting my bag on the airport security belt and having everything spill out!)

I took the little leather strings off the metal loops (and might even change the loops) but otherwise I have left it unmodified. I may also superglue the snaps of the long strap shut, so that it won't come off inadvertently. (The long strap is removable in case you want to swap it with a shorter strap — why, I have no idea, but if you don't want a cross-body strap then you can have a shoulder one, which comes with.)

I only wish this bag came in dark green; I have decided that dark green is the ideal color for bags, as then it matches (if you are the sort that worries about such things) both black and brown. But for $29, I forgive it for not being dark green!

Whenever she takes me off the hanger, I feel such a shiver of hope. Down goes my back zip; in she steps, and does a little wiggle … if I had breath, I’d hold it, because she certainly is. Sometimes I make it past her hips, and once she got it zipped up past her bra strap, but usually she and I feel the strain in the seams at the same time. I can’t do anything about it, but she always stops. I really don’t care if she can ever wear me, I’m just happy she keeps me around. Someday …

Thanks to SDN for the kernel of the idea …

Summer dresses have it so easy. They never have to share—not with sweaters or tights or scarves or coats or anything. Me, I’m always fighting with all the other layers. Well, the underwear knows its place, which is a blessing, but the coat—lord, you’d think the coat would know by now, but every single time it grabs, grabs, grabs, until I’m all pulled up and lumpy. I hate that. But summer dresses don’t ever worry about that. Summer dresses drift blithely along, never bunched up or staticky, perennially on the way to a picnic. I’ve never been to a picnic.

Janet at Lanetz Living is having an semi-unannounced Christmas sale. Enter the code "christmas" when you check out. It can only be used once and expires December at midnight. (So order, then kiss somebody!)

If you were going to use the discount (and are a B31) you could do worse than this one …

I love the yoke, all those gathers! And the redhead and the blonde blatantly considering whether or not they should draft the completely unsuspecting brunette into their threesome.