That's the soundtrack for my day, thinking about Lotus festival this weekend. I love Lotus because of the great music, and because I can dance dance dance! (She wants to party, she wants to get down...) From this line forward you are to be subjected to the most vain drivel I will post this year. It's all about what to wear. I am planning my Lotus wardrobe very carefully this year so as not to replay last year's fiasco of the failing tights, so as not to have hurting feet, so as not to be too cold, or too hot, so as not to end up carrying sh*t around (no bulky jackets, no bags, no binding armholes, sagging socks, extraneous scarves, etc.), and still look nice. It's a lot to think about. It's one of the, maybe, two events during the year when I actually give a crap about what I'm going to wear instead of slogging around in my usual slogwear (
slogging (TM)by friend
LH), and yet comfort must reign because of the nature of the event (in, out, dancing, standing, back in, then out, more sweating, much walking). This is when I envy men, who can wear a pair of brown orthopedic shoes, dark jeans and a simple shirt and look equally at home dumping off cans at the recycling center or going out for a nice dinner. And all of their clothing has pockets, many pockets. Somehow, every year, there is absolutely nothing in my closet that satisfies all of these conditions and I end up frustrated, and tying knots in the waist of an ancient pair of brown tights on a public street (see
Knotting my Knickers). "Next year will be different!" I vow every year. And yet, it comes down to the big night, and I have nothing that fills the bill and is everything I want in a tasteful yet comfortable ensemble. Is this too much to ask?
That's the soundtrack for my day, thinking about Lotus festival this weekend. I love Lotus because of the great music, and because I can dance dance dance! (She wants to party, she wants to get down...) From this line forward you are to be subjected to the most vain drivel I will post this year. It's all about what to wear. I am planning my Lotus wardrobe very carefully this year so as not to replay last year's fiasco of the failing tights, so as not to have hurting feet, so as not to be too cold, or too hot, so as not to end up carrying sh*t around (no bulky jackets, no bags, no binding armholes, sagging socks, extraneous scarves, etc.), and still look nice. It's a lot to think about. It's one of the, maybe, two events during the year when I actually give a crap about what I'm going to wear instead of slogging around in my usual slogwear (slogging (TM)by friend LH), and yet comfort must reign because of the nature of the event (in, out, dancing, standing, back in, then out, more sweating, much walking). This is when I envy men, who can wear a pair of brown orthopedic shoes, dark jeans and a simple shirt and look equally at home dumping off cans at the recycling center or going out for a nice dinner. And all of their clothing has pockets, many pockets. Somehow, every year, there is absolutely nothing in my closet that satisfies all of these conditions and I end up frustrated, and tying knots in the waist of an ancient pair of brown tights on a public street (see Knotting my Knickers). "Next year will be different!" I vow every year. And yet, it comes down to the big night, and I have nothing that fills the bill and is everything I want in a tasteful yet comfortable ensemble. Is this too much to ask?
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Nancy