Tag Archives: fashion

1629. Drop dead gorgeous

Savannah and her three sisters were dead keen on fashion. They presumed, of course, that that’s why they were invited to a Retro Festival. Those of us born a few years before Savannah and her three sisters don’t really regard relatively recent days as being Retro. But Retro the invitation over the phone said, and Retro it was going to be.

Savannah and her three sisters were way ahead of their time. They had come out of the closet very early in the nineteen eighties. All four of them. They had endured ridicule and distain. These days life was easier for the sisters and their partners. No longer were they abused and scorned, but accepted for who they were. When Savannah took the phone call inviting her and her sisters to the Retro Festival it seemed to Savannah, for she’d always had trouble with the issue, that they were at last part of the day-to-day ordinary fabric of society.

All this is part of the reason why they went to so much trouble, and expense, to do the best by the invitation that they possibly could.

Of course, a phone call is a phone call. Sometimes things can get muffled, and muffled they got. Needless to say, they didn’t stay particularly long at the Hetero Festival.

1607. The colours of drinks

Shona and Freddie were the life of any party. They were boyfriend and girlfriend, although they didn’t share the same address. They had this “thing”. It was always planned. Of course, it had to be planned otherwise it couldn’t have happened. Shona always wore what matched Freddie’s cocktail drink.

Shona would phone Freddie and ask what he was thinking of drinking at this particular party or on this particular outing. A Bloody Mary and Shona would wear red. And what a stunning red dress it was! Tomato was definitely Shona’s colour. A Casablanca and Shona would wear the colours of pineapple and coconut milk. She cut such a dashing figure! It wasn’t always alcoholic either. Sometimes, for example, it could be iced tea. Different colours suited Shona and browns and golds were muted, as if to say “We shall have a laidback evening in a classy restaurant.”

So it came as a bit of a shock when Freddie suggested they have a quiet evening at his place, just the two of them, and he was drinking nothing but water.

1594. I feel an interactive page coming on

Hi. My name is Sinead and the other day I felt like getting all interactive on my blog. Lots of people do. They get all interactive and everyone takes part and it is fun. So I thought why not me too? It also attracts new faces to the blog. So this is what I done.

Write a poem no longer than 14 lines and 54 words including the words haversack, hurdy-gurdy, enthralling, table, and Rumpelstiltskin. The posting was accompanied by a picture of an Australian short-beaked echidna for inspiration because they’re cute and lay only one egg every year. So they would be no good keeping instead of chickens!!!!

Well, no one responded, not even my friend Debbie, so I asked my friend Debbie if she had any thoughts as to why, and she said “Nah she didn’t”. She should know because she has an interactive page on her blog and lots of people post pictures of themselves on it. But I don’t want to do the same because it will look as if I never had an original thought in my life. Anyway I never posted a picture of myself on my friend Debbie’s blog because my parents probably read it.

I also asked my biology teacher about it, and all he said was “Not another, Shirley” and I said my name wasn’t Shirley. So he wasn’t worth asking. He’s like that, Mr Thompson, he puts everyone down. But I’m not going to let it beat me so I’m going to put up another challenge and let’s hope this time a lot of people find it attractive enough to enter and give it likes.

My friend Debbie just asked me if I wanted to go down to the town mall, so I said yes, so I’ll come back to this later maybe.

Hi. This is me later. I’ve changed my mind, and now I’m creating a new blog on fashion. I’m only going to have pictures of me wearing my own stuff. Let’s hope it attracts lots of likes. Ms Turnwall, who teaches gymnastics at school and I bumped into her at the mall, and she is always very encouraging, and she said that the idea of my fashion page would not only be thought-provoking but it could also be sensational. So come on, everyone, and give my fashion pictures lots of likes after I post them, probably next week after I finish the written assignment Ms Turnwall gave us to do on Russians spying on our national gymnastics team at the Olympics.

I’m hoping to be a journalist when I leave school so all this is good practice.

1518: Bloggeration

Hi. My name is Zhara and I would like to share with you what I have learnt about blogging by blogging. First of all don’t get caught up with trying to get lots of likes – I get about 1100 likes and I am happy with that. I get friends on Facebook and stuff to give me likes as it’s a way of promoting my blog to those who are missing out. It is so exciting! I can’t believe how popular I am. My friend, Arizona, only got 27 likes!!!! What a loser!!!!

I also try to select the best makeup to recommend, even though I’m not a makeup blogger but a lot of women are interested in makeup so they are attracted to my blog because of the makeup. And the guys like coming to my blog to see the photos of the women wearing the makeup. And I also post about makeup for men for those who like looking at men like my cousin Alfred. So find some side things to put in your blog to attract a wider audience – like makeup and fashion and face cream and hair and stuff.

It’s also helpful if you suffer from some ailment and talk about it. I got a fungal infection once but I didn’t blog about that. It is better to go for sychological (that’s a word I can’t spell) ailments like skizno skitzo depression. People run away from viruses but they don’t mind (or rather like) people who are suffering and they like to offer their support. But what is the point of offering support to someone with a fungal infection? You might catch it!!!! So go for something in the head like grief or loss or something. Face cream for dry skin is alright because it’s not fungus.

Anyway, all this is my advice, and I hope to start a page soon about website promotion – but people will have to pay for that!!! My boyfriend is coming to my place tonight to show me what to do because he knows about stuff like that. I am really excited to be a successful blogger, and will now post this before I lose all the friends who read my first posting yesterday.

1430. Frumpy Gabriella

There were two words in the English language that Gabriella despised: “frock” and “frump”. “Frock” because, even though it wasn’t, it sounded like something her great grandmother would wear. “Frump” because it sounded as if the woman concerned was dumpy, like a sack of wheat.

To be honest, Gabriella wasn’t God’s gift to the planet when it came to looks. She was slightly portly even though she was only sixteen. And she never dressed particularly fashionably because she didn’t have that much money in her weekly allowance.

She used to be teased at school. “You’re a frump in a frock” the other kids would shout. “A frump in a frock.”

Gabriella went to quite a fashionable shop to look for something nice that she might be able to afford, like a scarf or something. She did! She found a beret that she thought made her look quite smart. After purchase she filled out a form that asked why you would buy such an item of clothing. Gabriella wrote, “Because kids call me a frump in a frock”. And it won! It won! Gabriella didn’t even know it was a competition! She won ten thousand dollars’ worth of fashionable items!

1333. Serendipity

Cushla had always thought that the word “Serendipity” was something meaningless from some old song, sort of like “Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay!” or even “Chim chiminey chim chim cher-ee!” How wrong she was, as she was about to find out.

Cushla had left school and had an ambition to be a model. She auditioned for every modelling job advertised, and was frantic to find herself an agent.

In the meantime, Cushla collected the trolleys from the chain store supermarket carpark. She worked for a pittance, but money was money.

One day, she knew she wouldn’t have time to get changed for an audition straight after work, so she wore a model’s gown and had her hair swept up like she was Cathy on the wild moors just stepping out of Wuthering Heights. What a picture she was wheeling the trolleys in the car park. She was wolf whistled and cheered on and commented about. Such elegance, grace, and creative abandonment all in one little supermarket carpark!

The billionaire owner of the supermarket chain just happened to be leaving the store when Cushla went by wheeling a great train of trolleys. He was blown away with her creativity. She was promoted there and then as the international co-ordinator for supermarket carparks. She travelled the world. She modelled and trained models in every company carpark throughout the globe. She was on a huge salary. She was very successful.

Cushla did this fabulous modelling job until she was wrinkled and old – about thirty-seven. But it didn’t matter. She was very rich. And anyway, she had already bought the supermarket chain.

1224. Testosterone

It was Fredericka’s first year of teaching at a High School. In fact, it was her first day. The principal had told her to “dress modestly”. Dress modestly! What an old-fashioned concept! What an old-fashioned expression! She would dress tastefully! Fashionably! Appropriately!

Fredericka chose to wear a loose white blouse with the top buttons undone. It was, after all, still hot from the dying summer. And she chose a “modest” brown skirt with a slit up to the lower thigh that was both cooling and feminine.

Well! The testosterone in the class of sixteen year old boys! Fredericka could smell it. It was overbearing.

“Boys! Boys! Open the windows! It’s stuffy in here!”

The excitement when Fredericka reached up to open a high window.

“Boys! Boys! Let us have less tomfoolery!”

That did it. That took the cake. Fredericka would not change the way she dressed. She wouldn’t change because of a classroom of chauvinistic sex-ridden boys. It’s the boys that needed to change. They needed to learn to produce less testosterone. Tomorrow she would begin such a lesson. She would wear the shortest skirt she could find, and God help any boy who misbehaved.

1202. Love at first sight

It’s love at first sight. In fact, I hope we find enough money to afford to get married one day. She lights up my life. I think about her all the time. I’ve most definitely got to buy that engagement ring.

Everything about her is stunning! Her looks! Her personality! Even her taste in clothes. She’s almost a fashion icon. Her laughter is like the sound of gentle bells wafting from a beautiful spire down the valley of life. Her eyes, I swear, are diamonds.

Now, I’ve just got to get her to notice me.

689. Hoisted by his own petard

689hoisted

Quite frankly, the younger staff members at the local newspaper were fed up. The rule said “In the event of a tie, the oldest in age shall be considered the winner.” This rule was as old as the hills. It applied to whenever the staff voted as to which journalist got to go on a mission to an interesting event.

There was one interesting event annually vied for. It was to the Wearable Arts Festival in Wellington. It was well-nigh impossible to get a ticket. Year after year, the staff vote equalled oldies versus youngies. And the same bloody fuddy-duddy old fart got to go every year.

Young Tristan had a plan. At a meeting of staff when they reviewed the paper’s constitution, he suggested that the rule be changed to the youngest winning in the event of a tie. It passed! Yes! He was set to go! The Wearable Arts Festival was coming up. The staff voted.

Tristan got half the votes. Natalia got half the votes.

Tristan was the winner! Yah! Yah! Hurrah! Oh, wait a minute… We forgot. We changed the rule. Natalia wins! She’s the youngest.

Yeah. Tristan thought Natalia needed to go. She might pick up a few ideas. She dresses like a slut.

(The photograph above is of the Wearable Arts Festival in Wellington, New Zealand).

183. Clothes Maketh the Man

183clothes

Andrew disliked having to buy new clothes. It wasn’t so much the expense, as the difficulty he had in selecting what looked best on him. He would spend hours going from one menswear store to another. Trying this on and that on; looking in the mirror; hating what he saw; finding what he thought he liked but not in the right size. The sooner he found a lovely woman who would tell him what to wear the better. He was self-conscious even in the old clothes he had on now.

Then there were the insincere shop assistants. That looks great on you. That’s really YOU. You look sexy in that. They were no help. They wanted Andrew to give them his money and run.

It was depressing. He stood outside the door of a menswear shop in his worn jeans and torn pink shirt. His loose hooded aquamarine sweater, casually flung over his left shoulder, was something he’d bought online four years ago. He looked along the street. What were other men wearing? Black? White? 49 shades in between? He wanted a bit of colour; a bit of style; some panache without being overly bold.

A woman stared at him. Did she know him? Andrew thought she was a bit rude really, ogling like that. She entered the shop. Andrew heard her say to the shop assistant: “I’m shopping for my husband. How much is that sexy combination on the mannequin outside the door? It’s so simple yet so classy.”

Andrew went in and nearly bought the shop.