I called my father at home, but no one answered, so I texted him Happy Father's Day instead. Shortly afterwards my sister texts me back to tell me they're in Ocho Rios and I need to call him on his cell or hers.
Ah, love technology. Means I got to speak to him just before they finished up at the Jazz Festival up there, so he definitely had a nice Father's Day.
My poor sister--I send a card and/or give a call for all birthdays and Parent days, but that's it. Sending gifts to Jamaica is expensive and a crapshoot. She, however, lives with them, so giftiness falls into her lap. She gets crazy and says things like "How about we send them on a cruise?" and I say thing like "Can't we buy her earrings?"
In the future we all have purple pageboys! Awesome!
I keep telling people that the girl with the purple pageboy is Nick Drake's sister, but nobody's impressed with this information.
I want the purple pageboy!
I think it would be smashing on me.
eta: I'm impressed that you know of Nick Drake's relatives, David.
Everytime you mention someone like that, I am reminded of my friend, Darryl Purpose, singing Singer-Songwriter Heaven...which features Nick Drake, Graham Parsons, Harry Chapin and others.
etaa: ack...evil code
Ha! Man, I just wish the right now wasn't as ripe for fashion mockery. For a hot second in the 80s I thought I was living at the one true sartorial time, where everyone else was mockable and we'd be right forever.
Then again, I was also 15. Not sure what the Dorcus people were smoking.
Jeebus, that guy has great legs.
Men! Go skirts...choose skirts.
I am vastly amused by the Dorcus memo:
“hire only men with large, hairy, developed legs, because in all probability they will be frequently chased by men wielding bats and clubs; models must be able to outrun their critics.”
I want the purple pageboy!
Frankly, you need one. Then the silver jumpsuit.
I just spent the afternoon getting high and writing porn. Well, okay then!
While we're on the topic of freaky clothing: ick. Then again, I already dislike flipflops and am not a fan of fur.
That's just gotta tickle, and in the end? Not warm enough.
Then the silver jumpsuit.
Um. This one might take a while. I have a policy regarding shiny clothes based on the fact that they NEVER flatter on the red carpet. Plus, the jumpsuit is going to have to wait until I walk off a bit more of this enormous ass-o-mine. But, when the time is right, baybee, I'm totally there in a very Space 1999 way, if you know what I mean.
