I got it in my head to go to the Mercury in my Lizzie Borden outfit, the 1890's walking suit in blue velvet that I made, with considerable effort, in around 2002. The trouble is, twenty-four years ago was also about ten pounds ago. I couldn't get the skirt to fit through the waist even with my oldest corset laced as tightly as I could, which probably would have been too tight for a full night out anyway. Sadness.
So did I switch outfits and go out anyway? No. As soon as I got out of the corset my body was all, "Stay home and get some sleep, woman." So I did, and now I'm super perky for doing my Sunday chores.
On the upside, I arranged a second date with Red next weekend. Also, Adrian Tchaikovsky doesn't suck; all credit to the Tickler for recommending him.
And by the way, when I first made Lizzie I didn't have boobs, like, at all. Now I have enough.
So did I switch outfits and go out anyway? No. As soon as I got out of the corset my body was all, "Stay home and get some sleep, woman." So I did, and now I'm super perky for doing my Sunday chores.
On the upside, I arranged a second date with Red next weekend. Also, Adrian Tchaikovsky doesn't suck; all credit to the Tickler for recommending him.
And by the way, when I first made Lizzie I didn't have boobs, like, at all. Now I have enough.







