Look what was waiting for me upon re-entry to non-summer life: Rowan’s 30th anniversary edition. I haven’t even started to take it all in, but I rejoice that there are 65 patterns. I rejoice that the pictures are as over the top, dreamy and crazy as ever, and that the models are as translucently pale and waifish as we have come to expect. I’m sad that there is no new design from Kim Hargreaves, but I’m delirious that Marion Foale is in there. I’m going to savor every page, keeping a sharp eye out for items that you need to add to your prop collection for future photo shoots.
I think you have everything you need for this one already.
Dietrich and DiMaggio
Perfect timing: one of my last acts of summer was to lure a bunch of cousins into modeling the Pieman pullover. They were kind of dutiful about it until Paul spontaneously busted a move, and then everybody else had to vogue.
I’m mailing it to Afghans for Afghans this week (promise!), secure in the knowledge that it will fit a variety of 7-14 year old body types. And also Aunt Kathy.
I Have a Dream
Like everybody I guess, I love it when I have a good dream and remember it the next day. Like that time before we met in person, when I dreamt I ran into you at Target, and your red cart was piled high with unnecessary plastic objects–that was a very reassuring dream. I awoke with the firm conviction: “Ann is all right.”
The other night I was having another one of these pleasant dreams. Starring George Clooney. In the dream, he and I were old buddies. He was working in a restaurant, tending bar. (In a revealing dream insight, the chef of the restaurant was my obstetrician, Steve–because hey, George is fine but he did not hold my hand during my times of need.) So, I’m chatting with my pal George, who says, “Kay, doll, you’ve put on some weight.” Damn! It turns out it was an anxiety dream! Like I need George Clooney telling me the All-Acronym Diet Plan (G & Ts & BLTs) of the past couple of weeks did not do me any favors? A waste of a good George Clooney dream appearance if you ask me.