Have Yourself A Very Golden Xmas Ugly Sweater Party
It has been two-ish years since the Have Yourself A Very Golden Xmas Ugly Sweater Party. NC from the moment that wedding ended has been absolute bliss for my friends. This past weekend was my gal pal’s birthday. And she decided why not have a brunch on Easter on her badass rooftop in the city. So I fired up my cooking skills and make my famous vegetarian, crispy, turmeric, saffron Persian rice with roasted almonds and pomegranate seeds. (Tahdig for all my desert brothers and sisters out here) What does this lovely brunch have to do with my sister from another mister’s MIL she has been NC with for almost 2ish years? I’m glad you asked llamas. Because bitch showed up. I’m not sure who’s Facebook she stalked, or what person she water boarded but she came from out of state and showed up at the front door of their apartment building. I will rewind just a little. Friend and I are setting up on the roof, tossing pillows on the outdoor furniture and laying out some linens on the tables. Their apartment building is only 4 stories high, live on the top floor and are the only apartment with roof access. Because we were not sure that people would hear the buzzer inside of the apartment we put a sign for people to ring the bell and give a shout up to the roof (or text) and we would buzz them in. So I’m meandering about fluffing pillows while happily balancing my mimosa when I hear someone yelling. I figured someone came early and friend went to go lean over the rood edge to see who it was. She immediate reeled back and spun to look at me. “It’s (name redacted)!!” She shouted as she ran for the apartment to stop the hubs from accidently buzzing her in. I peeked over the roof and watched her for a bit. Pacing, freaking out, pulling on the handle of the door. She hit the buzzer maybe 10 times and then looked up and saw me. She was… angry. Flipped me off and went back to tried to yank on the handle and shout something about wanting to give her baby his Easter basket. The woman seemed unhinged. She was in fact carrying one those drug store giant plastic green baskets filled with crap so high to was wrapped in plastic.
()Have Yourself A Very Golden Xmas Ugly Sweater Party,
Best Have Yourself A Very Golden Xmas Ugly Sweater Party
It didn’t. Around 2am that night, I was torn out of a Have Yourself A Very Golden Xmas Ugly Sweater Party I can’t remember, sitting straight up in bed, as an ear-splitting scream came from outside the bedroom window above our bed. It was an inhuman, beastly wail. I turned around, got on my knees, and pulled the thick drape to the side to look out. I only moved it 3-4 inches then thrashed away from the window, almost falling off the bed, letting out a scream of my own. When I pulled back the drape, I’d seen Creeps and Pete had their foreheads pressed into the frost-sheened glass of the window, smiling at me with teeth barred, and malicious, deranged hatred in their eyes. It was so horribly shocking in my exhausted state I’d slammed my hand into the headboard of the bed as I closed the drape and launched away from the window, shouting obscenities in rage, fear and embarrassment. Sasha woke into a terrified daze – “what Harry, what!?” We just sat there holding each other, curled up at the foot of our bed, our own fucking bed, as the ghosts giggled and shrieked outside the window, some were right outside, some were off in the pasture. One ran along the roof squealing for hours. That might’ve been my lowest point thus far… I’d started shaking in dread, exhaustion, and rage. I hated them, I was glad I’d killed them. We pushed the bed to the other side of the room, checked the candles, and I half-napped in a lucid state till sunrise. New Years Day, Wednesday, day 12 of this bullshit, and the last day of our strange, home-bound, demonic “vacation.” I was more exhausted than I’d been in years, emotionally and physically. Sasha was tired too, but trying to be upbeat. After breakfast, I went out to load up a sled of firewood. I was about halfway done, when Hank suddenly rose up from behind the firewood stack. It terrified me more than any of their other daylight efforts thus far. He rose up slowly, mouth wide open, eyes rolled back, screaming like he was hurt; a panicky, desperate shrieking like he was being eaten alive. It shocked me so bad I stumbled backwards and landed on my ass in the snow.
()I really appreciate these descriptions. Your sense of the Have Yourself A Very Golden Xmas Ugly Sweater Party with mine, and I think captures why I struggle so much with trying to look effortless/casual: I keep on sliding over into frump! I lack a vision of effortless intentionality. I also think that for me, “datedness” and “frump” relate to one another. One thing I’ve noticed in my own style sense, as I navigate the great silhouette shift of this half-decade, is that my sense of something being “dated” really only comes into play if “frump” as defined here (lack of intentionality, “just gets the job done”) is also a risk. That is: if I’m wearing my favorite, most directional pieces — it really doesn’t matter if they have features that look “dated.” That flowy abstract-print top that I used to wear over leggings — tuck it in to a pair of nice wider leg trousers and it looks somehow retro classic. But with a pair of wider leg jeans, it just looks … boring, like I haven’t gotten the message about tighter-fitting tops these days Another example: I still wear skinny jeans sometimes, but primarily with knee-high boots and my favorite blazers. To my eye, it works as a kind of deconstructed equestrian thing that looks highly intentional. And I still think my skinny-legged suit trousers look amazing with their matching jacket: it’s obviously an outfit meant to work together. Basically, it feels to me as though the “datedness” of particular style trends primarily controls what you can get away with around the edges of an outfit, or with an outfit that’s meant to look effortless rather than high-impact — what shapes and silhouettes strike my eye as “looking good” by default such that even if (say) there are a few compromises to practicality in the outfit, it looks like it’s all purposeful. A few years back, I used to wear a loose, mid-thigh t-shirt dress with leggings and leather sneakers —- such an easy outfit for bike commuting! Now, I would probably wear the same dress primarily with tights and booties or bare legs and sandals: I’d have to commit more fully to styling the dress to make it look intentional.
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