Zou Bisou Bisou Peek-a-Boo, or, Who are you, Megan Draper?

(image taken from Amoeba)

(image taken from Half-Time Hennessy)

(image taken from Emerald Scarab)

Perhaps this proverbial ship has already set sail, smooth and sure along the undulating sea, however, I can attribute my lack of timeliness to my recent meanderings in Rome and Paris: a public, rehearsed coquettish French-inspired, by way of Quebec, pseudo-burlesque dance? Madame Megan Draper, what other sultry skills of seduction and feminine charm will you reveal this season?

At the conclusion of the fourth season of the esteemed series, an ending warranting an array of sentiments from shock to anger to confusion, the creators left the audience in a whirl with this sudden engagement twist, the elusive and eloquent and occasionally conniving, occasionally oblivious Don Draper to marry his completely strange and random, though beautiful, receptionist. Fortuitously, consenting to contractual agreements with the actors brought the series to an extreme hiatus, quite convenient, giving the writers and all time to develop a character for this woman. So far, I am nonchalantly ambivalent; while I adore her edgy style, a soliloquy of Mod sophistication with a bit of French funk, the professional dimension to her arc seems lackluster, especially when trying to emerge from the towering shadows of such faceted fictional women as Joan Harris, originally Holloway, and Peggy Olson. Also, completely superficially, though, meticulous attention to detail can surely elevate a good television show to a magnificent one, I cannot stand her Parisian French accent; I want to her speak as though she is Canadian, Quebecoise, stretch her vowels in that almost disgusting way that resembles a pretentious duck.

I own a vintage costume rhinestone choker necklace, which I already have spent innumerable hours divining how I can emulate this demurely alluring look; alas, the main attraction, a wonderful black mini-dress, is what I lack. New item for obsession.