Thought I’d share pictures of a short skirt and sweet top…a sort of gift, or maybe tribute? to my husband.
I missed Father’s Day here. (Happy Post Father’s Day, by the way). But I didn’t miss it in person…I celebrated with my kids and Frank, and even got a glimpse of my own father.
Let me explain this. Though my parents live two states away, I see them fairly often as they traipse hither and yon on errands of business or pleasure (with eight kids grown and flown, there’s lots of both). My parents come and go like…well, not quite like thieves in the night, but not like the wind either. Maybe…like popcorn? Suddenly, suddenly popcorn is there, almost out of nowhere, warm and enticing. Joyful, you take a handful…and then just as suddenly as it came, popcorn is gone. Whsh-aah. If you can picture that…popcorn here suddenly, enjoyed briefly, and gone just as suddenly, then you’ve got the comings and goings of my folks in a metaphor. Dad sat with Mom just a few seats down from me at church, their grandkids between. But when the service was over, they were gone. Probably already in Idaho on their way back to Oregon. Just like that. Kisses blown, goodbyes implied. Almost mysterious, except much nicer and hardly noire at all.
So yes, I saw my dad on Father’s Day (I love you, Dad). But way more of Frank. Frank was my companion du jour, my photographer. Or I was his. We shared the camera.
Besides a flawed but progressive cake and an almost perfect meal, Frank was treated to…well, me in a short skirt, and a sweet top. He loves it when I dress up, wear skirts. Particularly short ones. I protest shy knobby knees; he cares not at all. Aside: I met both the short skirt and the sweet top at my most frequented thrift store…D.I. Took the skirt in to make it pencil-ish…sort of like the pencils you might have borrowed from the kid in front of you in 9th grade English, the over-used pencils, sharpened until the lead was hiding out next to where the eraser used to be. Yes, took the skirt in, and revamped the shirt…from 80’s (speaking of the 9th grade) to peter pan peplum. I’ve done this before. I probably should move on to other strategies. But I do love the top.
The brooch is actually a pendant from a necklace that Frank and I picked out together at a little jewelry booth in Honolulu. Nostalgic, pretty…and as common on the streets of Honolulu as a ukele. It holds the blouse shut so more of me doesn’t spill out. Safety pins can pull all sorts of schemes together.
It was a good moment. Love you, Beau.
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