Massive Attack, Bowling, and Diner Dining

This past Saturday evening, I joined my filmmaker in a birthday celebration and laudation for his friend, at the local bowling alley. Wanting to feel comfortable and exude a casual air, while still wearing a dress and distinguishing myself from some of the town folks, I decided to don a simple cotton-spandex double scoop fuschia mini-dress from American Apparel, paired with a new deep v-neck cardigan in a pale peach. Later in the evening, following bowling charades and escapades, we hit up a diner on the way home for instantly regrettable greasy food; hot pastrami with melted Swiss cheese resting uneasily in my intestines, along with some French fries, I was very glad I made the sage decision of covering up with a sweater, and not allowing this fitted number to prance about solo in the stomach spotlight. I own a number of these mini-dresses in black and in bold colors, including turquiose and green, and it is an ideal cut for layering, but also stands well alone, making a statement.

This large gold vintage bag is a flat, square shape and features honey-caramel plastic handles. My bangle is also a cranberry fuschia, an accent to the dress, and is made from 1960s lucite.

To maintain the playful motif of this look, I wore deep navy tights

The back of the peach cardigan is a sheer lace, the ultimate demure hint of the eroticized, sexualized potential of the spine. Backless tops and dresses have always seduced me, sordidly, and this top alludes to that love affair while being a bit more appropriate, a bit less forward.

These gold dangling earrings have an organic look to them, reminiscent of the concentric rings of plant cells and bark within the trunk of a tree. A friend of mine from university, infamous for her impeccable style, ascerbic wit, condescending compliments, and aggression while drinking, felt they looked exactly like golden metal dipped funnel cakes. Forest, or fair grounds, I love their heavy weight and unique yet versatile appeal.

While preparing to head out, agonizing over clothing and fraternizing with my eyeshadow compact, I dusted off the Massive Attack album Mezzanine; it has been a long time since I listened to it in its entirety, and I am glad I did. Empowering vocals and resonating bass and beats, I was at once calmed and energized, prepared to battle the invariable suburban flotsam and jetsam.