Outfit for a Thursday: Polka Dots on Dots

This week has been one inflicted with serious jet-lag; obviously, this made my already tormented reluctance to abandon the haven of my bed each morning that much more potent. Nevertheless, with the glorious and almost shamefully beautiful aid of early morning caffeinated coffee, I assembled this outfit, pulling together an older cardigan, one that has been neglected and that I had nearly forgotten, with this new cream silk skirt that had yet to be worn. Although I succeeded in rousing the filmmaker, also less than perky from a project he worked on this past week, and had some photographs captured, I have not had an opportunity, really, to write anything notable, or not, until now: babysitting a blissfully sleeping beauteous baby. Spending hours on a plane, then hours working frantically in a foreign city, and again spending hours on a plane to return home, seems to leave me quite dotty, so, manifesting the sentiment physically only seemed appropriate in the moment.

For awhile, nearly every article of clothing in many mainstream franchise stores seemed to have these large floral embellishments; perhaps the ancestry can be traced to those early days of Sex and the City fictional, iconic demigod Carrie Bradshaw, with her floral brooches. No matter, it never quite seemed to meld with my tastes, but, somehow, seeped into my closet regardless. Black flowers have always been appealing to me; it has been awhile since I have seen one in the flesh, but black irises are a particular favorite.

This photograph does not quite do this tight cream silk pencil skirt justice; it is such a phenomenal and natural classic, for work, but just for feminine life, that I am mildly appalled at myself for keeping it hidden and sedated for so long.

Nothing alleviates and allays the fatigue associated with international travel like large faux pearls; if only this sarcasm were true, I would be golden. For now, the placebo effect and my deliriously exhausted delusions should suffice.

I wore these patent leather red pumps in Rome, and these black sheer polka dot tights while in Barcelona; when worn in tandem, it is as though I have generated a modern and professional Betty Boop. With plain black and other neutrals like this cream, particularly, the texture of the tights and the pop of cherry color are a wonderful flair, almost enough to wake me from my zombie daze.


Saturday evening babysitting soundtrack: After Hours at Minton's Thelonius Monk