Thursday, November 02, 2006

Fashion photos

Oh, all right, Scott. Top:


It is all about the swoosh. Swoosh, swoosh.


Anonymous said...

Dance with me, I want to be your partner

Can't you see, the music is just starting

Night is calling and I am falling

Dance With Me!

Let it lift you off the ground

Starry eyed and Love is all around You

I can take you where you want to go, so

Dance With Me!;~)

k said...

oh! I used to love to swoosh!

Anonymous said...

Thank you! Love it! Now if I can talk my lovely wife into something similar. The 4th decade should be a time to wear such swooshy things, in my opinion. And she freely shares her age since she looks much younger, so I am not breaking the rules.


Anonymous said...

What marvelous shoes!


Pretty Lady said...

Oh, Russ, you hit my nerve. *blush*

Anonymous said...

*squirms in fit of covetousness*

Anonymous said...

Sighs in memory. I agree that age is sometimes just a number. And I am married to a man 11 years younger. However, there comes a time (and weight) when some styles begin to look, ummmmm, shall we say SILLY on someone my age. I shall always love clinging swooshy sexy clothing. But no one really wants to see a lot of extra personal padding too tightly bound and enourmous swaths of gauze do hide defects as much as call attention to them. I once saw a fairly large woman bound into a red leather outfit with laces up ever seam...and her dark skin spilled through ever possible crack and crevice reminding me less of sexy and more of sausage. (My husband assured me that someone once told her she was sexy in that outfit, so she now will believe nothing else). I don't want to become that woman. But it is hard to fight the urge to wear gypsy clothing every day! LOL.

Pretty Lady said...

Yes, indeed, Terrymum, a very important factor in Fashion Sensitivity is being realistic about one's body type, both in its essential nature and in how it alters as one grows, inevitably, older.

I myself have a Fifties Hourglass figure, which I recently verified objectively, by spending the day in the nude around dozens of other females. Thus, waist-centric clothing is Key. If I go into denial and attempt to dress as though I have a hipless Twenties Flapper figure, I simply end up looking like a badly-stuffed sausage. Or, nearly as bad, if I fall prey to the adolescent delusion that wearing shapeless clothing four sizes too big for me will make my figure appear appealingly petite in contrast, I look like a Floating Tent.

Being a modest sort by nature, it took me years to become comfortable with overall Form-Fitting clothing. Now that I have done so, however, the motivation to keep up the yoga and healthy diet grows ever stronger.

And I find it hard to imagine myself wearing seamed red leather in any circumstance whatsoever. :-)

Pretty Lady said...

k, somewhere, somehow, you SHALL swoosh again. I guarantee it.

k said...

That is a great comfort, Pretty Lady. Thank you.

Anonymous said...

prettylady said...

Oh, Russ, you hit my nerve. *blush*

7:59 AM

Oh Pretty Lady, I must confess that I could not help myself.

After all, a lovely creature, such as yourself, walking down the lane, would put steam in a man's strides.

I must confess that I am smitten!;~)

Anonymous said...

Terrymum, you pull off gypsy/Stevie Nicks VERY well, and it flatters your figure.

Terrymum and I are both, um, blessed, with an over-abundance of boobage. On the one hand, it demands that our tops MUST be at least somewhat form-fitting, or else we look vastly pregnant. On the other, it helps disguise a number of other "flaws", since most folks' gazes never make it past the OH, MY GOD chest level.

Oh, PL, I envy you that small-waisted Fifties figure. I have always longed for a true waist. I give the illusion of having one, but only because my measurements run around 42-28-38, and no matter how much weight I gain, it always goes to the first and last numbers first. Thank goodness for small favors.

Pretty Lady said...

Mitzibel, that IS a True Waist. Not an illusion at all. Truth. We do not wear corsets in this enlightened century, and 28 is something to be proud of.

Anonymous said...

Well, all the women in my adopted family were of the 5'1", 95-lb, size-3 bird-boned type, so I always felt like Hilda the Huge, lumbering around Thanksgiving dinner treading on feet and knocking things over with my boobs and butt when I turned too quickly (said boobs having started sprouting by age 8 and reaching a D-cup by age 13). I grew up surrounded by women who, with no corsetry or even dieting, could have their waists encircled by their husbands' hands. Living as I currently do in a college town has not alleviated the feeling, nor did years in theater with costume mistresses having conniption fits when faced with trying to alter their current stock of ingenue outfits to fit me.

Luckily, the non-related males around me never once let me believe that my figure was a liability ;)