Monday, October 12, 2009

A daughter's indictment...

This poem was carefully folded up in Julia's (age 7) backpack last week:

I know all about fashon
Why dont you like fashon?
You hate fashon dont you
Why dont you like fashon? You will grow into it
You dont get fashon

 I'm not sure this had anything to do with me or the blog, but it seemed so fitting. She's right! I don't! Maybe I will grow into it.

At some point, not tonight,  I want to write more about this NYT piece on Eileen Fisher . Still hoping my sister will write about her "EF Only" plan.

Tonight was the first time this fall that I wore fleece. My friend C says that her growing fleece collection is the first sign of a deteriorating wardrobe. "My sleepwear is nicer than my fleece - this is a problem." My proposed solution? Why not sleep in fleece???

T.O.: Pale pink (yes, I know) wide wale cords. NY & Company (eBay, 2007), J.Jill brown 3/4 sleeve t-shirt I didn't wear this weekend, cool scarf made of Kimono fabric scraps that my mothers found friend at a church sale, I think.
 

1 comment:

  1. I have a very complicated relationship to fleece. It's deep, tortured and sort of racialized. Can't help you here. Cool poem.

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