...to wear 40s and 50s suits! The temperature here in Houston has dropped 14 degrees since I woke up, and it ain't stoppin' for no one, no how. Actually, it'll stop in the upper 20s in the wee hours of the morning, which has prompted me to pile every blanket I could acquire onto my bed. I'm a subtropical creature; I need to be kept warm, and my heater is sub-par (to put it nicely).
In the meantime, I'll wear a 50s suit as I'm out and about, doing all my Sunday stuff. It's from The Forester Shop in Poughkeepsie, and according to the other label, "tailored by joselli". It's a good thing I found some vintage-inspired brown suede wedges in San Antonio last week. They're perfect for this suit.
Working by your lonesome with your computer as your camera ain't easy, but I work with what I've got. The checked pattern in the weave doesn't show up in the attempted full-length shot. Neither does the rest of me from the knees-down.
My Christmas tree and loveseat are conspiring against me, I'm sure of it. Anyway, simple slicked hair today with a bun at the nape of my neck- I'm avoiding hairspray that a more elaborate style would require, because I'm
really gonna avoid getting my hair wet (translate: washing it) while the temperatures at night dip below freezing. The water heater in this place, like my heater, is also sub-par, mostly because it's in a boiler room shared by 20 other apartments and a laundry room.
And so, stay cozy. I will be sleeping in my new drop-seat hooded
jammies with feet, made of polar fleece with rockets all over them, drinking hot tea. There's a fine line between weird and endearing, and
I walk it. If you're gonna wear something warm and unflattering to sleep, why eff around when you can go all in and be flat-out
ridiculous?
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