that's right- i used the plural. we went to three (3!) different yarn stores and looked at lovely lovely yarn and lovely lovely patterns, and listened to the weirdo culty chanty music in the background. together.
it should also be noted that i was PMSing, like sideshow-freak, hide-the-silver, secure-your-seat-into-it's-fully-locked-upright-positon-and-locate-your-nearest-exit kind of PMSing, and so Boy deserves some type of blue ribbon, or um, awardy thing.
you my prize pig, boo.
anyway, then we went to do one of my other favoritest things on earth. and when we were done, and all cleaned up, we went shopping!
for clothes! at aardvark's odd ark on venice beach. i took whole bunches of stuff into the fitting room, like a full jumpsuit covered in this print
that REALLY unfortunately didn't fit me AT ALL. it was totally sad. a tragedy. i almost cried. how could something so obviously meant to be worn by me not fit? not even to take a picture! but i so would have. for y'all.
when i came out of the fitting room to show Boy how hot i was in each and every item, he was trying on sportcoats. orange leather and brown velvet ones with tweedy elbows. very couth. and also hats, because Boy is a hat man, like so:
then came the dress, the lovely dress, that looks pretty good (better than in the picture below) but would look better if maybe i cut off my legs at the ankle, or donated the section of my belly with the spleenie thing to science, because i don't really need that anyway.
why? because things are not meant for tallish people like me. especially vintage things (which will be proven further by the "other" pictures below.). i suppose people were just shorter then, what with their growth being stunted by all the disco music, strobe lights and cocaine.