Just so you know, M. and I made it over to the aptly named Sublime Donuts with my pipin' fresh ecoupon on my phone. We two and about thirty other people. Damn it, I say, I'm here to have a discount hipster donut. And we waited in line. And we got... two of the last THREE donuts in the place. And they were damn good.
I find that I am inspired by the fashion column that's more of a sidebar in the Sunday Times. The one where a semi-celeb takes copious notes about what they wore to what all week, then spills the news to some aspiring writer? Parody is almost hitting below the belt (aha, a fashion pun) but mine would start with...
Sunday. In order to be comfortable for an arduous morning of feeding the cats and possibly cleaning up after the oldest cat's poor judgement, I made sure to wear a pair of my husband's comfortably worn-out Target brand pajama pants in graphite-gray with chartreuse cross hatching. I topped it with a white t-shirt obtained cleverly some years ago at the Stax Museum in Memphis. Subsequent reading of the Times Book Section, after thoroughly washing my hands and helping myself to coffee in my Rumpus "Write Like a Motherfucker" cup necessitated using one of those claw hair clips.
Ahem. And so forth.
Am relieved and fired up to see that there will indeed be a Walk for Choice on Saturday Feb 26 in Piedmont Park. We can fund NASCAR, but we can't fund women's health?
Fashion notes forthcoming. Doc Martens and a whole lot of anger will probably be involved.
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