Get Up and Dance!

Best. dancing. shoes. EVAH

Yesterday, I went with friends to Riverside Park for a live concert.   It was a great time!   Typical summer concert, everyone brings chairs, food, wine, and we all hang out for a few hours listening to music.

You know, when I go to events like this, or weddings, or at a restaurant with a dance floor... I always tap my foot, and wriggle around a little in my chair.   I want to dance, and I don't.   I always feel very self-conscious about getting up and just dancing,  in front of strangers.   Why this is, I don't know.   Onstage, I'm a dancing fool.   Onstage, it is choreographed, I am not myself, but the character I am portraying.   And I have always viewed the audience as friends, not strangers.

In a public social setting, there is no escaping myself.

But at these events, I always feel a little regretful, when some fantastic tune starts playing... and I remain in my chair.   I disappoint myself.

So back to Riverside.   Last night, towards the end of the concert, a small group of people wound up standing in front of the stage, dancing.   I had noticed one older gentleman earlier that evening, kind of grooving in his chair.   Now he was up there with a half dozen other people of assorted ages, shaking his moneymaker.   I sipped wine, and watched the dancers idly while I chatted with my friends.

It was a good ten minutes before I noticed... that older gentleman who was out there having such a fine time... had a prosthetic leg.   

And in that moment, I felt so ashamed of my fears.   My fear of being judged.   My fear of falling on my ass.   This man was out there showing all us wallflowers up, and taking joy in his dancing!   He completely ignored what would be, to many of us, a tragic misfortune.  This man was totally fearless.   Totally fierce.   Totally free.

I decided, late last night, that that is the last time I ever sit something out again.   I am going to remember the joy in that man's movements, and in his face, and I am going to get up and dance, goddammit.

So here is a little something for you all to dance to....  GET UP AND DANCE!


Celestial Cavalli

I bought this Roberto Cavalli skirt several years ago on eBay and never wore it. I kept saying I was going to have it shortened - but never did.   And I never could figure out what to wear with it, that didn't make it even more over-the-top than it already is.

Brown denim, with a celestial print.

And a little mermaid-pleat

It has loveliest pale aqua-green and ivory-white nebulae, gold stars and script, gold hardware, and leather zipper pulls

The pattern makes me think of The Golden Compass, or Sting's The Soul Cages

For the past several years, I have vacillated between selling it, and keeping it.   I could not bring myself to sell it.  I love the cut of the skirt, and I LOVE the print. Oh I do love me a celestial print! 

I finally decided that it was ridiculous to keep this skirt, when I could sell it and use the money for something else.   So a few weeks ago, I took pictures and wrote the listing for an eBay auction.   I had it all done, and previewed the listing...

And I thought, "Nope. I'm going to get it shortened, and I am keeping it.... and I am going to wear it if it kills me!"
I took it to my seamstress last week and asked her to shorten it, and she refused. She thought I should leave it as-is, so I did.

Yesterday, finally, I wore this skirt. My happiness factor - like the pattern on the skirt - was out of this world!

I am SO glad I didn't shorten it!

The rest is not fancy or high-end:  Gianni Bini bag (thrifted), Limited Cropped Sweater (thrifted), Nine West pumps, Guess Sunglasses, Rose-gold watch (gift).  The hat is from a boutique in the Blue Ridge Mountains.   And my trusty pearl studs, bought in Tokyo.

I now have a few Cavalli pieces in my wardrobe (all hunted down relentlessly on eBay), and they are all like this - sexy, quirky, imaginative, over-the-top. This is definitely a brand I can get behind!

I'll Be Watching You...

I stepped off the elevator at JC's condo on Monday night, to find this... watching the elevator door....

What the actual f*ck. 

Creepy f*cking clown doll.   When the elevator doors open, this thing is actually lined up to make eye contact with the person on the elevator.

JC has recently acquired  new neighbors in the units on either side of his.   I'm not sure which neighbor this belongs to, but she keeps putting out awful stuff on the windowsills, apparently under the mistaken belief that this common area is free range for her decorating leftovers.

I shudder to imagine what the inside of the actual condo looks like.   If I had to guess, I would say it involves a LOT of Precious Moments figurines, and probably a hundred more dolls like this one, on wall-mounted shelves around the bed, watching their human owner sleep.

Since this photo was taken, she has put out more awful sh*t.   JC got caught up in the excitement of this, and I found him yesterday, heading out the door with my toy accordion (this is another story for another day), to put with the as-yet-unoccupied windowsill.   I made him bring it back.  I pointed out that we did not want to be awakened by someone testing the accordion at 6am, to see if it works.  (Pothead Neighbor Across the Hall, I am looking at you).

I am planning a series of fun little signs for this doll to hold:   

"I'll Be Watching You"   
"We all float down here"
"All Work and No Play Makes Jack a Dull Boy"

Of course, I am always open to suggestions.

Otherwise, I am not going to rock the boat on the toy collection.   I figure at some point, the issue of my practicing flamenco footwork for 30-minute stretches is going to come up.   Or my singing for 30-minute stretches.   I like to choose my battles.

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