2000-09-07
Dear Diary:

I think it has something to do with listening to my Elvis tape again. It's very weird that I like Elvis now because the first album I ever bought was "Meet the Beatles" and I can remember thinking at the time that Elvis was just so pathetic and out of it, you know?

Now I'm sitting here with my headphones on humming along to "Love Me Tender" and feeling all soft and squishy. Look, I don't pretend to make sense. This is just how I am.

So, anyhow, the thing is, I want a poodle skirt, a crinoline, and some saddle shoes with little poodle ankle socks. This is not an appropriate look for a woman who is 49, but the heart wants what it wants.

The first person I ever thought was cool was a girl named Wendy who babysat me and actually wore these things. She also had a really keen ponytail with a chiffon scarf, just like in the poodle skirt picture. I wanted to be Wendy soooooooo badly.

So when I was in Grade Three I talked my mother into the saddle shoes and I even got a swirly felt skirt with a crinoline, but it wasn't a poodle skirt because it didn't have a poodle on it. There are no words for my disappointment about this. My mother just didn't understand how crucial the poodle was to the wonderfulness that is a poodle skirt. Go figure.

The crinoline was the first of the many times I have been a fashion victim. See, it was a cheap kid's crinoline so instead of having a kazillion layers of heavily starched taffeta or net to make my skirt swirl out, it had a little inflatable tube around the outside. Yes, boys and girls, I wore inflatable clothing when I was young.

With predictable problems.

First off, normal crinolines give way when you're walking down narrow aisles. Inflatable crinolines do not do this. Oh no, what they tend to do is fold in half front and back, and then as you walk forward they tip upwards. This means the panties sported by the person wearing the crinoline are exposed to public view unless she has fast reflexes and catches the crinoline. I was in Grade Three. I have been grace challenged all my life. You do the math.

Did you know that back in those days they had day of the week underwear? Oh yes, your mom could buy you underwear of different colours, one with "Monday" embroidered on it, one with "Tuesday" ... you get the idea.

Panty humour is a big thing in Grade Three. This is where that classic poem, "I see London/ I see France/ I see so-and-so's underpants" is burned into our collective consciousness. The height of panty humour when I was a kid was when it was Tuesday and you were wearing panties that said "Thursday" because you were in a hurry and your reading skills weren't the best.

Don't ask me how I know this, I just do.

Fortunately, the crinoline didn't last. It didn't take me long to sit on it and total the inner tube, making it useless. My panties once again became a private matter between me and my underwear drawer, thankfully.

And, as you can see, time heals all wounds. Because here I am, yearning yet again for a poodle skirt, crinoline, saddle shoes, poodle ankle socks ...

Only this time I know enough to stay away from the inflatable crinoline, eh.

--Marn

Old Drivel - New Drivel


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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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2000, 2001, 2002 Marn. This is me, dagnabbit. You be you.