Much as it pains me to admit it sometimes, life is not a play by Henrik Ibsen. If it was, I would be dressed a lot better and I would have much pithier dialogue on a daily basis that concerned secrets from my past and euphemisms for sexually transmitted diseases. I would be constantly fighting the subtle ways that injustice works in human relationships and I would probably have at least one suicide attempt under my belt, and I would be pale and interesting and troubled in some way, but not Tennessee Williams heroine kind of way, more in a European flavored way, with restraint and depth and unnamed manias. Sigh. Yes, it would be a grand way to live, surrounded by subtext and Scandinavian foods. But I don’t live that way, no one does, anymore, except maybe the cast of Downton Abbey, and so I must accept that mine is a more direct kind of life.
And perhaps that is a consequence of being a New Worlder. Ours is not a world of quiet revelations, but rather, of loud and clear confrontations. No one encounters a new continent a little at a time. From the very beginning, it was all about the obvious. So who can blame me for not being the most subtle person around? We are, on some small level at least, a product of our environments.
Perhaps this is why for this Thanksgiving, I made the most specific and least subtle garment possible. I could have done many things with my Thanksgiving outfit, many subtle shades of fall leaves, but instead, I decided to wear ALL of them. Because….why not?
I did a hand-picked zipper, and I realized I should not have put my hands in this position in all my photos, but ohhhhh welllllll. I also hand stitched the hem and lined the bodice, but not the skirt. The fabric is pretty stiff, so it holds the pleats neatly.
My lovely mother took these photos, as exhausted as we both were from cooking (Although Mr. Struggle DID contribute an Indian dish, Butter Chicken, because there just WASN’T enough poultry on the table with that 13 pound turkey, you know?). She took the side view and made a face, like, why do you make so many pouffy dresses? Because I can, Mom. Because I can.
Look, I love this dress. I also have no idea when I could or would ever wear it again. I mean, it’s hardly adaptable to other seasons…..but from September to November I guess it can be my loud and proud autumn loving go-to!
See, I’m trying to look coy but the fabric JUST WONT LET ME. I bought this online over a year ago and didn’t know what do to with it. It was on sale, and I guess we all know why, because not everyone embraces their total lack of subtlety the way I do!
I hope you all had wonderful happy and safe Thanksgivings, and welcome to unending Christmas carols that make me want to put my head through a plate glass windows, er, that is, holiday season!