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Showing posts with label clothes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label clothes. Show all posts

Thursday, 14 May 2015

Daily Prompt: The Clothes (May) Make the (Wo)man

How important are clothes to you? Describe your style, if you have one, and tell us how appearance impacts how you feel about yourself.

4.10.2013



Cow

If I was a cow I would have no problem with clothes. My only problem would be is there enough grass or hay to munch and water to drink and how do my earrings suit me. I would spend all day in the meadow munching grass and manufacturing pancake matter to house the flies that are searching for a home. As long as the milk production continues, I would have no worries.

Today I am a golden oldie only leaving home for shopping and certain walks. Shopping needs something practical. I do not need to be the queen of fashion when I pack my supermarket trolley with the chosen goods. I notice that the most important acquirement today are comfortable shoes. My feet seem to be doing unexpected things since I became 65. They develop strange outgrowths and expand. I always thought that the body expanded, which it does, but the feet go with it. It becomes increasingly more difficult to find nice shoes if your feet are size 42 (continental sizes). It often happens that size 42 is 41 according to the company that makes them.  On the other hand you might have to progress to size 43, in which case you are better off looking in the men’s department if an average Nike will do.

Shopping as a golden oldie for clothes becomes increasingly more difficult. The designers never seem to think of the expanding and stretching parts of a body. They are convinced that you still have a waistline at the age of 60. I can tell you, you do not. What is the point of hipster fashion, when you no longer have a hip. Hips travel North as the years go by and melt with the waistline, if you still have one, so the perfect solution is to wear a long top over the trousers to cover what used to be a waist and hip.

There is a good fashion at the moment known as tunica. It has probably developed from the so-called maternity dress which was used to cover the bump. I find these ideal. For me it resembles a longer blouse that you can wear over the trousers. Jeans are a life saver when your figure decides to expand, go South or North, East and West. They make them in all sizes by the centimetre. I usually go to the clothes shop and head for size 44. I choose and try. It is then that the big disappointment arrives. I cannot make the button meet the button hole. They are too far away from each other to match. There are various methods to help of course. Take a deep breath, almost suffocating, and try to insert the button, but your time is limited. You have to do it within a few seconds otherwise the chance has disappeared. If you succeed fine, but then you have to overcome the zip. It needs a lot of strength to pull it up and very often it decides to open again.

The solution is the next size, so I progress to size 46. Often this is the size I need, although size 46 is not always size 46 and so the carousel begins again. I have a registry office wedding next month, so my jeans and t-shirts will not be called for. Luckily I found a few rare models that fit which hide the voluptuous curves that my body has no acquired. The church wedding is in July and I am still thinking about that.

Oh to be a teenager again. The funny thing was that I was so unsatisfied. I was tall and slim and a Twiggy lookalike if anyone remembers the english model that resembled a walking skeleton. I so wanted to have curves, an hourglass figure and now I have curves which are all in the wrong places. The hourglass figure resembles a triangle with the point at the top. Internet is wonderful, we can write and no-one sees you and you can choose the photos you want to show. That was why I chose a cow. Who wants to look at me?

Thursday, 31 July 2014

WordPress: Daily Prompt - Handmade Tales

Automation has made it possible to produce so many objects — from bread to shoes — without the intervention of human hands (assuming that pressing a button doesn’t count). What things do you still prefer in their traditional, handmade version?



012


Who makes their own lasagne? The photo is a Mrs. Angloswiss lasagne fresh from the oven. Perhaps there are those with Italian ancestry that would not dream of buying a ready-made, frozen lasagne and would do it all themselves from the beginning. Is it worthwhile to make the pasta pastry, roll it out to size; make a cheesy sauce as well as cook mincemeat in a tomato sauce put it in a dish layer by layer and top it all up with the remains of the cheese sauce, sprinkle parmesan over it and bake in the oven? There are not many that bother today; after all it is all available in the supermarket, even if the British did have a crisis when they discovered that some frozen food companies were using horsemeat instead of the normal beef. Mrs. Angloswiss does it all herself, although I do buy the ready-made pasta leaves to save time.

I have a thing about ready-made food. I do not trust it. I do not know what it really contains and today there is so much automation, the greedy food companies do not really care. Now and again there might be some food poisoning, but nothing serious and today’s news is always news, but tomorrow? If I write a prize suspicious blog today, tomorrow it is already forgotten, or a few days later, because something new has arrived. So if the customers of supermarket “A” all have digestion problems because the ready-made automated food they bought from the frozen food selection or special sterilised section or whatever from the shelf had some sort of germ, who cares. No-one really talks about it a week later and the toilet roll sales multiply in turnover.

If I am invited to a restaurant I will go and I will eat, but I will not visit a restaurant as a treat. I had to make enough compromising solutions when I was a working woman. I arrived home half an hour before lunch. I cooked for my son and I, with enough left for Mr. Swiss in the evening and I returned to the office ninety minutes later. I could not afford to eat in a restaurant with son no. 2 daily, and I did not want to. I had dealt with the shopping problem before I arrived in the office and I had it all worked out timewise. Pasta cooking needed about twenty minutes, veg ten at the most according to what it was, and meat could be cooked in the pressure cooker to save time. I did it all myself. I could have taken advantage of automated food, but would I know what I was eating? There are so many preservatives, chemical elements mixed into everything. It is not my sort of thing. Basically it is all a question of logistics. I remember once I had to bring my car to the garage and near the garage was a MacDonalds. I had to eat something for lunch and so I entered in this fast food temple. I found a small table. The other tables were occupied by mothers and their children. Do mothers actually cook today I asked myself?

Today I am a golden oldie and no longer a working woman, so I have the time to think it over and cook it. I do not need prepared packages. I buy my meat over the counter usually. I do not buy pre-packed meat in a cellophane wrapper. Perhaps I should have married a farmer, then I would even know the mother and father of the cow I was eating, but there I would have a problem. I am not a vegetarian, but prefer my meat to be anonymous, otherwise I would not eat it. If I knew that the leg of lamb I was eating came from the farm around the corner where Bluebell was its mother and the only ram in the pack the father, then forget it. I prefer New Zealand lamb. There are thousands of them roaming the prairies and probably the mothers do not even remember how many children they had. My dad had a basic saying on stock as always “Let’s face it there are enough cows walking around and they must be there for something”. I am not agreeing, but try feeding a cat vegetable, he cannot digest it and so it always eats meat. The human body is able to digest meat, so why not.

That is the food problem dealt with for me. I love knowing how things arrive. I made my own clothes for many years; mainly because I had such an impossible figure, that it was the best solution – I was very tall. I even made trousers for the kids, but that was more a financial solution. Today I have perhaps shrunk a little, but what I have lost in height I have gained in width, although being a golden oldie who bothers. I dress in comfort and comfort clothes give and expand and I can buy it.

I buy bread although I even baked bread almost daily some time ago. Ok, it taste fine, smells good, but is it worth it? I decided eventually no, it was not worth it and so I now buy my bread. I do not eat a lot of bread. Making shoes is nothing I ever thought about, but I do not think so. There is nothing better wearing a pair of adidas or whatever for roaming around the country, and in summer either shoeless or a few leather thongs wrapped around the feet do the job quite well.

A thought came to me. This prompt is really directed at the so-called western civilisations. I remember a week in Marrakesh, Morocco. There is a market (souk), full of hand workers. They recycle what they can. They are not rich people and they would probably laugh when they would see the subject of this prompt. They would not have a great choice (except for the rich), they know how to make everything themselves and do not throw it away because something new has arrived.

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Tuesday, 15 April 2014

WordPress Daily Prompt: You Sexy Thing

Tell us all about your best confidence outfit. Don’t leave out the shoes or the perfect accessories.



TMC Wholesale


This afternoon I was let out to attend my Tai Chi practice. As I go by car, I usually go as I do my Tai Chi with my sexy black trousers and sexy t-shirt. I was wearing my Spring jacket and a pair of nice flat comfortable shoes to match. My hair was neat and tidy, with a few centimetres length it does not really get windblown.

“How do I look” I asked Mr. Swiss, his opinion is always important.

“All right” he answered. I checked – was he looking at me? Of course, at least I think so.

The last time I was dressed to kill was a little more than a year ago, my step daughter got married and we were invited to the wedding reception. It was actually a casual thing, men were not required to wear a tie, but men always have it easy. A decent shirt and trousers and jacket and they are dressed and if casual, even better. No fancy stuff, but it does not take a lot of energy to dress decent: we women have problems, at least I do.

Oh, horror, I really had nothing to wear. I live in the country and my only excursions were to go hunting for food supplies for the family in the local supermarket. Dressing for the supermarket was quite easy, jeans, t-shirt and a jacket according to the temperatures. No big deal really, and new clothes were bought when the others shrunk or the figure expanded, which was more the second case.

My step daughter is in the boutique business, so a distraught step mother phoned and asked what the chances were of buying something to kill wear. No problem, and I was promptly invited to a day out in distant Zürich to visit the wholesalers as she had to do some shopping for her boutique. I arrived safely, dressed in my normal going out dress of jeans and my nicest blouse. The jeans were this time black (my dress colour). My stepdaughter has good taste and knew what would be ideal for mummy Pat. Unfortunately sizes were not mummy Pat sizes, but we were successful and one pair of modern trousers actually existed in my size. The rest seemed to be made for people with model sizes on the cat walk, you know tall, bony and flat. I am tall, and everything else exists only in my dreams. We did find a nice black jacket in the outlet shop my step had, one of those places with things that do not sell well because of strange sizes.

The photo shows one of these shops where there was no danger incurred of trying things twenty times until you might find something that fits. It was specialised in fashion jewellery and handbags. Actually I was not hunting for a handbag, but step daughter found a bag that would be super, take it. It was a very modern blue colour and I must admit it was very nice. Not really something for a wedding reception, but step daughter said “you must have it” and so I did. This was a year ago but I am still gathering compliments when I use it. It was a shoulder bag similar to the blue bag at the front of the picture on the right hand side.

Eventually I bought a matching blouse at a shop in our local town, specialised in oversize sizes. It was ideal and probably made with elefant woman in mind. I was ready for the occasion, and breathed a sigh of relief. I could show myself again in public. Mr. Swiss was also dressed nicely, but somehow he did not seem to have so many problems putting his wardrobe together. Are men better organised, or is it just a woman thing. I even squeezed my feet into higher heels and as I was mainly sitting and not walking so much, there was ot problem with moving.

My best confidence outfit is something in the line of athletic shoes, Adidas, Puma, Nike, I do not care about the name, they just have to be comfortable. This usually combined with jeans and a t-shirt and I am ready to show myself in public. I notice with the years that not only the clothes sizes increase, but also feet sizes. I used to be able to squeeze my dainty fairy feet into a size 40 (European sizes), but I can be lucky today if size 43 fits. Are they making shoes smaller, or are my feet stretching? I do chance a fashionable shoe now and again (flat), but have discovered that I now have to insert a support inside at the heel to make my feet look less flatter than they actually are. Of course high heels are now out, with my 1m 75 it is not recommended. Thank goodness my sons are taller than I am. With luck I will shrink in my old age, most people do.

All this talk about confidence outfit is silly in any case. I am brimming over with confidence and do not need an outfit to compensate. My voice and my aura prove it. I suppose I do stand out in the crowd (with my adidas and t-shirt). Of course I also have a home dress, I am sure most of us do. Something nice and loose, comfortable and in summer I even wear shorts (but only at home). My outside dress more in the Capri trouser line of things (if I find my size).

Just a small word to the improvements made on our daily prompt blogging page. Yes, we now have a page showing the daily prompts as they arrive http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/ for those that has not yet found it. Things are looking up. One of my annoying complaints was answered and it seems pingbacks have now been enabled for weekly challenge and photo challenge. I am sure daily post is on the list for the next correction. Things can only get better.


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Thursday, 20 February 2014

WordPress Daily Prompt: New Sensation

Ah, sweet youth. No matter whether you grew up sporting a fedora, penny loafers, poodle skirts, bell-bottoms, leg-warmers, skinny jeans, Madonna-inspired net shirts and rosaries, goth garb, a spikey mohawk, or even a wave that would put the Bieber to shame, you made a fashion statement, unique to you. Describe your favorite fashions from days of yore or current trends you think are stylin’. 

Photographers, artists, poets: show us FAD.




TMC Wholesale


Are they talking about the days when I could walk into a shop and choose which garment I wanted from the range they had which were all my size? Was it the days when there were short tight skirts. I could show my knees and slim legs and even a few of the other species would might whistle as I passed by. Yes, I think they are. Luckily I never felt myself inspired by Madonna and I still do not know who “Bieber” is.

The idea of a Goth garb appeals as I like pay a visit to the local graveyard, especially on a gloomy day. I can see myself walking between the rows of forever hunting grounds dressed in a white frilly blouse with a long wide black coat (emphasise on wide) and a necklace composed of ivory skulls. A pair of high black lace up boots would just put the finishing touch, with a few buckles. My ancestors would be proud, I am sure, especially the branch that originated in the Carpathian mountains, where was that place? I remember, somewhere near Bistritz in Transylvannia. Yes, those were the days.

Now I am restricted to visiting the department with the jeans look. They have them in so many sizes and widths, even elastic (they stretch). Yes, Levi Strauss, you are my hero. You saved my reputation. My bulges and non-existent waist line just melt into the material. Even if the jeans shrink in the wash, it is no problem. Just draw in your breath and try to make the two sides meet in the middle. If you are lucky you can do this without your face turning blue and not having to breathe out again in between. Making the button meet its hole is the first battle to be won, but the work is not done. The zip must meet all the way. You might be unlucky and an unforeseen injury could occur if some flaps of skin are pinched in the middle. Generally after thirty minutes you should be successful. The nice thing with denim is that it breathes with the body. As soon as you warm up after this effort the material gives and you are convinced you have not put on weight since the last wash.

If you tend to be gothic, denim is also available in black. They might not have been bought as “skinny jeans”, but they are eventually become skinny on any figure.

The top to wear with the jeans could prove a problematic search. Just go to Wikepedia on your computer and enter the words “wide tops to cover your belly” and you have the solution at your keyboard finger tips. You can even spare yourself the embarrassment of asking for this type of garment in a shop, where everyone can hear.

“Do you have any wide tops to cover my belly?”

The assistant will remain cool, she is used to all shapes and sizes. It just might be that the other customers burst into a hysterical fit of laughter and there might be some sideways glances in your direction and pointing fingers. So remember, order it all online.


What is the point of describing my favourite fashions of days gone by when I cannot even remember them? Fashion changes, the figure changes, and eventually you are just happy to find something that fits. Thank goodness you tend to forget as you get older.


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Friday, 4 October 2013

WordPress Daily Prompt: The Clothes (May) Make the (Wo)man

How important are clothes to you? Describe your style, if you have one, and tell us how appearance impacts how you feel about yourself. 

Photographers, artists, poets: show us STYLE.




021


The photo was taken on our monthly market in Solothurn, Switzerland where they might even have my size. I could hold a lecture about being well dressed for the office, having the correct clothes for the correct occasion, and when casual is written on the dress code, that is not as easy as it sounds.

Of course in my teenage years when it was all Beatles and Stones, you did what you could. Just dress as the others do, because personally I did not have a clue. Mum’s idea was a nice blouse bought on the market in colours of the rainbow. “Look what I found” she would say with pride in her voice expecting me to wear it, which I definitely did not. We just did not have the same taste. Life at that time was not as easy as today. There were no styles of jeans or t-shirts, you had to be dressed for the occasion.

A Saturday night dance at a dance hall in London was men with ties and woman with a “nice” dress. I did my shopping in the lunch hour in the dress shops near where I worked and picked up a few good things. It was the time of Swinging London. I was earning money and could make my own choice. I even had a figure that fitted the clothes I bought; although I was on the tall side, no problem: mini was fashion.

In the office you wore a suit or dress. I remember the discovery of synthetic material, crimpelene, nylon and whatever. That was a blessing. Wash it, hang it up and let it dry: no ironing necessary and above all it was fashion. Today I would not be seen dead in anything like it.

One day I married had my own children, and they were boys. An entirely different dress code appeared on the scene. I found myself shopping for shirts, pullovers, trousers and jackets. At the same time my figure was changing. Two pregnancies left their mark on the body landscape. I was lucky that trousers were becoming more and more dress code for a woman. You can hide so much with trousers.

I was a working mother, wife and housewife eventually, so I needed clothes myself. Unfortunately life expects you to look good at all times as a woman. I often thought how easy it is for a man. Just wear a suit with a matching shirt and tie in the office and that does the job. A woman: oh we are poor things. We are expected to dress in clothes that fit perfectly, follow the fashion and look good into the bargain. I decided to take things in my own hands, literally, and enrolled for dressmaking classes. What began as an eight week course, became an eight year course. We were a happy bunch, had a good woman to show us how to do it (who I still see now and again, although she is now nearing her 80th year) and I learnt something. I learnt how to turn a cheap piece of material into something original that would fit. I made a costume of pure silk, made a dark blue cashmere coat. I could never have been able to pay the price for one from a shop on my income, but do-it-yourself was the solution. I even bought corduroy for making trousers for the kids (it was then the normal dress wear for school). That was my solution and above all I could pay for it.

Today as a golden oldie, I live at home. Now and again I am let out for shopping, once a week a Tai Chi Class and now and again I might be invited to a special occasion (which Î hate). My waist is no longer a waist; it is there but seems to drift north, whilst everything else sinks towards the South. The solution: jeans, they can be bought in all shapes and sizes, although the local supermarket still seems to think that women only grow to size 44 (speaking on continental sizes), but I have found a shop in town that does cater for larger sizes. Of course jeans follow a fashion. Sometimes they are slim line, sometimes they are wide, but you can always buy straight, so straight it is.

In summer a t-shirt serves many purposes. The design on the t-shirt shows your character perhaps, although there again I have to go for the wide expanding XXL size. I have found interesting designs on Internet, but Internet still thinks we all have figures like a Paris model and the disappointment arrives when you open the long awaited parcel and find it would only fit your teenage daughter (if you have one). My lesson is learned; buy what you can try on in the shop.

Shoes are another problem, although none really. As long as Puma, Addidas, Reebok or whatever they are called exist, then I can always find something (provided that size 42 continental exist and are available). With disappointment I noticed that not only the figure expands with age, but the feet as well. Sometimes I understand the Chinese parents that bound their daughters’ feet in cloth to keep them small. Not only is my body now XXL but my feet as well.

This year I had to have something new and nice, stepdaughter got married. She is in the boutique business and owns a couple. She had nothing to fit me in her shops (of course not, she caters for teenage figures). I visited the wholesalers with her. We left with a car full of clothes, all for her business: and for me? We found one pair of trousers large enough and she had a nice large jacket in her shop. Otherwise, I did my usual two hour tour of the local shops and eventually found something my size. There is one shop in our town that caters for women that expand with age. They know me quite well.

Today I am happy in my jeans and t-shirts. At home I wear nice wide expandable trousers (not exactly leggings, I gave them up a couple of years ago) and a comfortable t-shirt. I leave my feet to themselves, we have floor heating. When the going gets rough I can always find something comfortable for my feet.

My style is quite easy to define: my style is what fits.


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