I found two minutes to rub together today and took the opportunity to hang up some clothes that were strewn all about. (I don't think of myself as a clothes flinger, but it always looks like they were thrown in the air and allowed to float to the ground or the lampshade or the bookcase. Fling, flang, flung. I don't think flang is a word, but I want it to be -- flangdangle! it's the latest kind of scandal. Did you hear the flangdangle about governor so and so's book banning ambitions?)
ANYWAY, at the bottom of one of these flungen heaps I found this... garment. I'll call it a jacket for lack of a better word. It's a little bit victorian bathing costume, a little bit ye olde fashioned clown costume, and a little bit Matlock. I know! It has 3/4 banded blouson sleeves (!), a peter-pan collar (heart!), giant covered buttons (heart!), inexplicable yet perfect gathers, tiny but functional pockets, and (are you ready?) is made of SEERSUCKER! But not just any seersucker, it's in a narrow navy and white stripe and looks sort of like pillow ticking (!!!!!!). I'm wearing it now in the hopes that the answer to "What the hell do I wear with this?" will come to me in a moment of divine inspiration.
For now, all I have is the image of Andy Griffith singing Under Assistant West Coast Promo Man (in his seersucker suit, natch). In my defense, I got a really good deal on it.
Also, I am very tired.
In news unrelated to seersucker (I'm as astonished as anyone that there IS news unrelated to seersucker) -- at one point tonight, well after dark, I had the following conversations (among others) with a child who resembles Harpo Marx (but much noisier):
a) I'm not a ghost at all, let alone a scary ghost so please get out of the tree since your "scary ghost" rationale doesn't hold water. (as you already know!)
b) Busby the cat probably knows where Dash the cat is but won't tell us due to the fact that you, Harpo Marx but noisier, are a cat chaser.
c) if I were a ghost, (which I am NOT, as we have already covered), I would be a friendly ghost, so don't even think about climbing that tree again.
d) get out of the goddamned tree. (actual quote: "I think I see Busby over here.")
There was a Harpo Marx-ish child in your tree? Maybe I am reading this wrong?
ReplyDeleteYES THERE WAS.
ReplyDeleteHe's related to me, though.
Two things. One, while reading this I am actually wearing a seersucker dress! (maybe I am the ghost! I'd be a misanthropic ghost, I think).
ReplyDeleteTwo, "Get out of the Goddamned tree" is what you call it, because it is hilarious! (though, I love swears, perhaps I am biased).
Oh, anonymous T! You'd be such a stylish misanthropic ghost. I'm sure your dress doesn't have balloon sleeves.
ReplyDeleteHee hee. Get out of the Goddamned tree it is! (I, too, love swears.)