Hoodies

The hoodie's days are numbered. It's the way of fashion: once a trend peaks, once everyone is wearing it, it's bound to go out of style within a couple of years. I won't miss the hoodie.

Yes, I have a few hoodies, I must admit. They're still in pretty good shape. I have:

• A pink, cable-knit, Tommy Hilfiger zip-front cardigan. It was a birthday gift many a year ago. It's getting worn out, but I still get compliments on it.
• An olive green, fitted, fleece pullover with 3/4 length sleeves and no pockets.
• A couple of short-sleeved, zip-front, cotton hoodies. One is robin's egg blue with a pattern of little blue flowers. The other is white with big blue and orange, Hawaiian-style flowers.

I do like how they look. I tolerate hoodies in my wardrobe because the drape of fabric as it falls back from the neckline over the shoulders can be very flattering.

On the other hand, if the fabric is too thick or the hood is too small, the hood can bunch up at the back of one's neck, creating an undesirable hunchback effect. The worst-case scenario is when hoodies are layered, under or over other jackets, or even with other hoodies. The padding effect can spoil even the best posture, and makes a normal neck look stunted.

The other problem I have is with the zipper of zip-front hoodies. The second one bends over at all, the zipper is compressed into a series of bulging curves. If the hoodie is longer than midriff-length, you only have to sit down to get this unflattering effect. I am a big fan of button-front cardigans for this reason. Or pullovers, if you prefer.

What's your take on the hoodie?

Can't Wait for Spring

You all heard me complain about how middle age is sneaking up on me.

I'm of two minds when it comes to the concept of age-appropriate clothing. On one hand, I don't want to want to raise eyebrows by dressing too young, especially at work. On the other hand, I don't want to go to the other extreme and bore myself into an early grave with tasteful neutrals.

Just to make sure I still have something fun to wear on the weekends, I went out and bought myself this gear from the teen department. Can't hardly wait for the warm weather so that I can swan around town in my:



... T-shirt with bears camping out in sleeping bags. One of the bears is roasting a marshmallow over the campfire.
And my...



... ballet flat sneakers, which are covered in rainbows, hearts, stars, butterflies, and lightening bolts. Very mature, yes? No? And my...



... short-sleeved, robin's egg blue hoodie, covered in bluebells. You can't see from the photo, but each and every little bluebell blossom has a wee little happy face on it.

I'm only paid to act my age on weekdays. The rest of the time, I plan to regress shamelessly.

I luvs me some flannel

Yesterday was quite simply a happy day. For the first time in months, the sun shone in Toronto AND the temperature was relatively mild. For the first time in months, I actually felt a spontaneous urge to leave my home and go exploring outside.

I had a mission in mind. This week, my favourite pink, flannel nightgown disintegrated. First the buttons began popping off, and then, when I rolled over in the middle of the night, there was a dramatic ripping sound,

PPPPPRRRRAAAAATTTTTTCCCCCHHHHHH!!!!

and the fabric at the right shoulder gave out completely.

I'm sorry to say goodbye to this nightgown. It's so old that I can't remember where or when I got it. The print is of cartoon sheep jumping over fences. In between lines of leaping sheep, it says "Count the sheep, Go to sleep, 1,2,3,4..." Isn't that sweet? I may shed a tear or two as I slice it up for rags.

(I'll pause here for a moment to let the less sentimental among my readers recover. I should have warned you that I might be triggering your gag reflex.)

Ken and I bundled up in our parkas and set off for The Great Downtown to shop for a replacement. Our destination was The Bay, currently the biggest and oldest department store in Canada. On our way down there we strolled along Yonge St. (Toronto's central thoroughfare, lined with interesting retail and always excellent for people-watching).

As we walked, I was struck by how many beautiful people were out on the streets. Everyone seemed energetic, healthy, and colourful. Eventually it struck me: it was the effect of seeing people lit by direct sunlight for the first time since October 2007. Yes, it's been that gloomy here and I've been indoors that much. S-U-N, you say? No, I'm afraid I don't remember... How do you pronounce it again?

We made our way to The Bay, and Ken, ever the good sport, came up to the Ladies Lingerie department and held both our coats while I browsed endless racks of sleepwear. In the end I got a great deal: I picked up two pairs of cotton, flannel P.J.'s, each with a bonus pair of matching fuzzy socks, for $11.99 each. Sweet! And they're cute, too:



Oooooh, look at the details....



Sorry guys, just one more and then the shopping torture will be complete:



As we we left the store, I gloated euphorically over the bargains I had found. I said to Ken:

See! That's why it's best to shop at the end of the season. They always have amazing sales.

Ken: What season? The sleeping season? People sleep all year round!

Well, I guess he has a point. Considering he sleeps in his boxer shorts, it doesn't make a lot of sense to him that I have winter pyjamas and summer pyjamas. Such is the simplified life of men.

A Mystery Challenge

A heartfelt Thank You goes out to all of you who responded to my last post with supportive comments. I have re-read them all several times. If they were written on paper, they would be getting dog-eared already. Thanks also to those who have supported me in person, or who have silently sent good wishes my way. It all helps.

I do want to clarify one point. There is another Dad in my life, the one who so generously provided me with 50% of my DNA, and a very excellent DNA at that. You may have noticed him in my comments (writing as Mighty Mouse). Some people think it's weird that I have two Dads, but hey, if you can have more than one brother, sister, aunt, or uncle, why not multiple Dads? I think it's a great arrangement.

Now I have a mystery for you to solve. Without scrolling down, see if you can guess what this is:




Any idea?

It's small, it's lacey, and it's recently been hand-washed. (That's my "lay-flat-to-dry" screen thingamabobber that it's spread out on.)

If you're anything like Ken, your first thought upon seeing this delicate little scrap of fabric is: it must be lingerie!

Your second thought is: What kind of panty is that?

Don't get too excited now, but I even volunteered to model this in one possible configuration. Here is the world premiere of the garter's more modest cousin, the Knee Ruffle!



Woohoo! Look at those sexxxxaaaayyy gams!

Do you think this might catch on? Will Victoria's Secret have models strutting down the runway wearing colour-coordinated knee ruffles? Could this possibly extend to coy, peek-a-boo lace designed for elbows and ankles too? Stay tuned for the next stages of this hot, new trend!

But before you go looking for online vendors, maybe you'd like to see what this garment is really all about. It belongs to none other than one of the stars of My Favourite Things, Raggedy Ann.

Here she is, wearing her pretty pinafore.

Sasquatch

It would be easy for me to feel bitter about the recent weather in Toronto. It's not even officially winter yet, but it's been snowing for a month. Das ist crazy, for reals. We usually don't even get a dusting of snow until around Christmas.

But I'm kind of liking this wintery experience. Bad weather allows me to pretend that I am an adventurous hero, forging my way through wind, sleet, and snowdrifts to survive. Getting to the grocery store and back in freezing rain becomes an expedition. I may be slithering and slipping on this glassy sidewalk, but the Stalwart Red will never give up! Even if I have to shuffle all the way, I will prevail!

I'm even looking forward to the deep freeze days, the days I used to dread. What's different this year? In July I got contact lenses. Now I can pull my scarf right up over my nose, without fear that my breath will fog my glasses. I used to have to choose between seeing and breathing. That, my friends, was a hard choice.

Soon I must go out. I will pull on my ugly, waterproof winter boots and go stomping through ankle-deep slush while most everyone else is delicately picking their way between the puddles in their fashionable, leather-soled shoes. And I will feel superior! Oh, so superior.