All Business

It's pilot season, which means that I am sampling all the new shows, nibbling at each one to see if it is a delectable treat or day-old cream puffs.

Puccini

My dream is to one day own a Pucci dress, and if I do get one, I will of course let you guys know all about it. In the meantime, I have Puccini.

LSDelicious

Here is the weird thing about starting a blog: it is very hard to tell in advance what kinds of pages will get the most hits.

Forest Garden

As the weather gets chilly, I not with sadness the shortening daylight hours and the dwindling number of days I can wear dresses before losing my knees to frostbite. The flimsy, the mini and the sleeveless all begin to work their way to the back of the closet, after having finally gotten their due on Dressopotamia.

(Dressopotamia, by the way, is asynchronous; the pictures might be a day old, or a few months. I don't want to mislead you when I feature sundresses in late September, which I will.)

Shell Game

I just read an article in The New Yorker about a fancy restaurant where dessert is somehow intertwined with a three-card monte. I'm still not sure exactly how it works — the server flips over a card that has your dessert ingredient of choice? — and I am in no danger of ever finding out, given the frequency (hint: not high) with which I take advantage of New York's fine restaurants.

Twin Set

Today's post is a rarity — a double decker.

Veracious

I recently started watching "How I Met Your Mother" on Netflix Instant, making up for the last seven years I spent ignoring it. (Eventually, I'll get around to "Friday Night Lights." Don't rush me.)

I loved the way the show played with time, moving forwards and backwards and kaleidoscoping narratives (think Memento or Pulp Fiction) in a way that is my second-favorite storytelling trick. (First favorite: body swap.) Also, Jason Segel, Alyson Hannigan and Neil Patrick Harris are pretty reliably hilarious, even before HIMYM started.

Lunch

I think this is the last dress in my collection that I got from my grandmother.

If I come up with any others, you'll be the first to know. I do remember one piece with a greenish-gray, with line drawings of sailing scenes on it, but it was a) at least two sizes too small (and I don't go for "motivational" clothing) and b) peppered with holes that looked to be about the diameter of a well-fed moth larva, though it was definitely polyester, and I'm not sure how filling that is for the destructive little guys.

Beehive in Your Soul

English is a wonderful language because it's so easygoing about taking in new words. Like "skosh," for instance — I just learned that it's on loan from Japanese, sukoshi meaning "a little bit." We also make up new words constantly (though I am definitely not a fan of either "awesomesauce" nor "amazeballs," I recognize the function they serve for those who want to express extreme enthusiasm while sounding like idiots). The shuffling and re-shuffling of various prefixes and suffixes can lead to words that don't really make much linguistic sense — if you picked apart "homophobia," you would think it meant "fear of people who are the same as you," which... is pretty accurate really.

When I make up words, I want them to make sense when you first hear them, and then more sense the more you think about them.

Goldenromp

I knew it would happen: I've started dreaming about Dressopotamia.

If you don't like hearing about other people's dreams, read no further.

Bridethrilla

I got into Dressopotamia without an exit strategy, and I still don't have one, besides "finish closet."

That day is not today.

Coquelicot

Another find from Takoma Park's Polly Sue's Vintage Shop, circa June 2001...

Noir C'est Noir

I've never really warmed to the idea of the Little Black Dress.