Fashion disaster

It is 6:18 and still two hours and 12 minutes before dinner. There is plenty of time to get so much done before then. But right now I want to talk about fashion or rather the lack there of. I have decided that after three years I have some pants that even an artist should not wear in public.

The first pair is so big they can be pulled right down to the ground at any moment. They are covered in lose threads and have several spots of paint in embarrassing places. 
(The model is turned away to protect her identity. Honestly, would you want to be seen like this? I had to pay her a lot of money)

My second pair of pants suffers from Baggy Butt Syndrome, BBS, please give generously to help end this devastating condition. In the second photo our model has tried to pull them up tight to give a more “Italian” look, but do you think it is working?

I got this green pair of capris at a thrift store for $1.50. For that price I though it didn’t matter if they fit or not. Well, I was wrong. $1.50 is too much to pay for a pair of pants that are too big and are always inside out. What is up with that?

Lastly my Holly Hobby look. My model said no way was she wearing that for any amount of money. Please note how much a smile changes a before and after photo. In the first photo I do have the dress on backwards, but how much difference could that make?

In the after photo I have added the demure, yet perky, jacket that makes this suitable for church. Only $4.00 at my favorite thrift store. I do wish I had washed it, because it still has a slightly strange odor.





Beyond hilarious is that I am getting a ride to the San Francesco walk across the valley in an Alpha Romeo. Hey if San Francesco had had one he would not have walked. There is two and a half hours planned for this 30 minute at most walk. I am praying we do not have to do it on our knees, because, as previously mentioned, there are stickers everywhere. I also hope they will not be handing out those dark brown robes with rope belts. I especially hope there will be no self flagellation, as there is on these walkabouts in New Mexico. And if self flagellation is on the menu, then I am going for coffee. Sadly for everyone else I will be wearing a goofy hat. Not only does the sun hurt my eyes, but my dad would have worn a goofy hat and San Francesco was his favorite saint. So, Mebs, I am taking the fashion bullet for you. Hey, love you man.