those inter-changeable canvas shoes that the tops zipped off, so you could wear a different color/pattern?
I missed this historical moment in the history of fashion. I was picturing chucks.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
those inter-changeable canvas shoes that the tops zipped off, so you could wear a different color/pattern?
I missed this historical moment in the history of fashion. I was picturing chucks.
I missed this historical moment in the history of fashion.
It was the late 80s. It may have been a Payless thing.
When my mother was having her Bad Fashion Moments (which coincided with her midlife crisis) there were copious amounts of tight white denim jeans which required the help of me and a pair of pliers in order to get the zipper up, half-unbuttoned French silk shirts, many gold chains with warding off the Evil Eye charms and Clairol Red #33 hair color. There were also instances of her mowing the front lawn while wearing a bikini. (And let's keep in mind we lived across the street from my elementary school.)
And she wonders why I don't wear a bikini to this day.
oh dear.
I'm happy to say I've never been embarassed by the way mom looks. Some of the things she says on the other hand...
Some of the things she says on the other hand...
"Oh, did I ring you? I wanted your sister." (This happens about once a week.)
She used to make us what she called Lamb Creole. An exceptionally hyperbolic name - it was basically lamb with a tin of tomato soup opened on top of it...
When she moved into a new place, she raved about how accessible it would be for me. It has two flights of stairs in it. Heh.
"Mum, I can't fit everything into the dishwasher." "Just put what you can in." (A regular reply that she never, ever noticed the weirdness of.)
She has infected me with quite serious OCD-like tendencies that I thought were normal, until I started living with people who are not her. I have learnt that it's OK to dry your hands on a dishtowel occasionally. And also not to follow *any* of her cooking tips.
Ah, God bless my mother. She's crazy and adorable.
My mom was 39 when I was born, and short, round, and gray-haired for as long as I knew her. The first time I met a friend's mom who wore miniskirts I had a serious moment of bogglement. You mean moms aren't born in polyester pantsuits and sensible flats? Inconceivable!
Taking a quick break from the crazy busy. I'm cleaning the house, which is really silly since I am about to have a dozen teenage boys here and really they don't notice or care, but I want to have surfaces cleared for the cups and plates and such. Breathing a moment before heading to the grocery store. Hot dogs, mac 'n cheese, frozen pizzas, chips and such, tons of drinks, ice. That should replenish them from a couple ball games and keep them busy while watching the movie. My brilliant plan for seating is to have the same movie playing in 2 rooms so they can float around as they are a slightly restless bunch.
My mother has always looked sensible for her age. She falls within the normal range of embarrassment with her words and actions. I know I lucked out in the parent department.
Ok, cooled off enough to go back out into the heat and get to the store.
No gone yet.
FTR, teenage boys kinda scary. I've decided that the blasting Rap music and the boys singing is amusing and worth the ear damage, particularly when they sing along with the songs by women and do the high voice thing. Wish I had a video of that. When they aren't blasting the music they talk about stuff including girls, that would be the scary part. Wish I had headphones for that.
Has Jilli seen Making Fiends?
Oooh, no I hadn't!
I can be amazingly judgmental about other people's clothing. Which is kind of ridiculous, considering how I dress every day. But really? Micro-minis and knee-high stiletto-heeled boots? Not appropriate for the office, in my opinion.
My mom is a fanny patter. One time at the zoo someone was wearing the same color shirt as my sister and mom sidled up and gave her a couple of pats on the fanny. When the poor girl looked around horrified Mom said matter-of-factly, "oh I'm sorry. I thought you were my daughter."