While at the American Conservative web site a few minutes ago, the bottom half of this banner ad from the right margin, from a very nice women’s vintage-clothing site caught our eyes, such that the memory of the items we read page left is now history (scroll down to elbow level – the model’s, not yours – to see what we mean). We wish ModCloth (“Mod Retro Indie Clothing and Vintage Clothes”), started while in high school early this decade by a young couple recently graduated from Carnegie Mellon (press; cool links), every success as we extend our blogging brief into enchanted pastures new once more. Happily, as fall temperatures continue to drop across most of the country, ModCloth customers will with a few clicks find their need to retract a bit their hallowed constitutional right to keep and bare legs well-met from limb to shining limb across its seasonally-divers wares. Were we in possession of what we believe is called “cash” we might well purchase gift certificates for all the imaginary lucky lasses on our lists this season. If the ensembles on stylish display within are any indication, it would be money well spent, whatever the capricious fates ordained elsewhere within the hazardous and short-fused precincts of elective affinities.
I wonder if I could get my wife drunk enough to wear socks like those?
Steve
I wonder if I could get my wife drunk enough to wear socks like those?
Oh, Dear G-d, yes…
What I mean is, she gets the angels of my wayward nature more quickly than any of my regular reader(s), so no drinks are required – a mere “Every time you put them on, a DSL. gets his wings” should suffice…
While pondering the notion of modesty as raised below, I wonder if this would be an appropriate time to mention that there was a time when I had some socks very much like those, except they were turquoise blue. I wore them with a mini-skirt made of that material they used to call “hopsacking”–kind of a gentrified burlap, popular in the late sixties. It was purple, with tiny turquoise stars and yellow moons, resembling the marshmallow bits in a bowl of Lucky Charms. I bought it with my hoarded babysitting money, needless to say, since such garments were not to be found in the Montgomery Ward and J.C. Penney’s catalogs from which my parents normally mail-ordered my wardrobe. How I loved that outfit! ; )