leatherette

went to retrieve boxes this morning. what a joyous occasion that is. seeing the ex. he relented and allowed me to retrieve said boxes, only after trying to slam the door in my face. but i've seen purple rain too many times, and know how appolonia gets in to see prince (though he is far, far, very far from prince by any stretch of the imagination), and so, red converse inserted in door, he is not coward enough to actually hurt me, and he tried to lash out at me, but i've been through it with him and so am largely unphased (she says that now), but he did call me a delinquent. which i thought a curious choice of words. perhaps he knows me better than i think he does. perhaps he finally got that i am still the rebel he married. curious how rebellion is attractive until you deem it unattractive because that rebel rebels against the way things are going, the way things have been, now said formerly attractive rebellion becomes the impetus for dissolution. funny. that.

so he's following me down to the basement where he's relocated some of my stuff, and i'm being the delicate flower that i am. just because he cannot rip me apart does not mean i cannot say shit to him. i know he feels defenseless, and the man is twice my size, what can i say. i'm just a girl. sometimes being a bitch is all a woman can depend on.

but i did splurge a bit yesterday. i know of a vintage shop where the good monied folk of my town dump their impulse leather. and, i, gratefully, gobble it up. this was where i found my turquoise suede, and my muave leather. a nice rose suede caught my eye, and a three quarter length black vest *but* it wasn't meant to be, they weren't must haves.

i grabbed some leather pants and a black leather skirt, just to see. and whoa! i ran out of the room and grabbed two more pair of pants because they fit my ass perfectly. like they were made for my body. all told, i bought three pair of leather pants, chocolate, burgundy and metallic green. :D the black leather skirt is just an a-line skirt i will wear to the dinner party if i can find some decent shoes. i've got some vintage styles in my mind, and i have to figure out what shirt.

when i told my friend what i wear out to the places i frequent, she had to pick her jaw up off the floor. corset with jeans and a long black velvet jacket. this is my standard fare. but, i don't think i fit into any of those clothes anymore (they were last season and about thirty pounds ago). who knows what i'll come up with for this.

i did also find a knit dress thing for belly dancing. i've always liked the renaissance look of the knit cloak (floor length, of course), and while this is not that, it is a close second. the closest second, i've ever seen. though it's gold. and i'm not into gold, but i'm going to have to start making exceptions.

this knit cover up will camouflage my still gelatinous middle, while being perfect for dancing in. my dear friend was thrilled to hear i am flirting and even applauded. she proceeded to produce an egyptian beledi dress, very old school, and told me to put it on. it fit perfectly. so i now have a traditional dress to wear over whatever i choose to belly dance in.

that's something.

since i've inspired confidence in my inability to put together a not alternative outfit for a dinner party, i'm going to haul my cookies and acquisitions of late up there for a try on everything and see what looks best.

are we showing tattoos?

i ask.

maybe at the second dinner party.

hmm. that increases the skill level. i buy clothes that frame my tats. this is going to get tricky.

so now i have to find those shoes i have in my mind's eye. hope they are comfortable because i'm not about to do uncomfortable shoes for any guy. i don't care who he is. i really want some knee high black combat boots, or black converse, but this will be met with gawking and no! (she's cool with what i choose to wear, just not where i choose to wear it--for this occasion. a more accepting soul, i do not know).

so while leather is not a need, it is most emphatically a weakness of mine. a man in a black leather jacket, especially the heavy biker kind, is kind of an achilles heel of mine. what can i say, i'm a simple girl.