The dreaded short hair problem...

Well, the moment has almost arrived, the moment I've been growing my hair for for almost a year - the JASNA conference, at which I am teaching several dance workshops and leading the grand ball on Saturday night. Thanks to the skills of a certain Princess, I have a big, floofy purple ball gown and a Jane Austen-y day dress, re-fashioned out of one of my existing dresses. I have white tights. I have gloves. I have dance shoes. What I don't have is the appropriate hair for this event.

My hair is so medium at the moment. It's neither long nor short, blonde nor brown, straight nor curly. In short, impossible. But as it's easier to pretend to be JA with the current length than the usual length, onward I go.

Tomorrow morning, armed with hair clips, bobby pins, hair net, hair spray, and a curling iron, I will attempt to affect an artfully arranged mass of something that stays out of my face, yet looks at home to the masses of people attending the conference who are sure to know the difference.

Note to self: bring camera.

If the results are positive, you may even see them...

The strangeness of shoes...

Okay, this post is totally random...

In my bedroom tonight, I noticed 4 pairs of black shoes.



This in and of itself is not unusual. Clearly I wore them all in the not to distant past and kicked them off and didn't put the back where they live in an orderly way. This is also not unsusal.



Have you noticed something in common about each pair of shoes?



Yes, in every case, the left shoe was upright an the right shoe is over on its side. I'm sure this is full of meaning.



Discuss.

The ubiquitous purple dress...

Somehow it just happened that the main colors in my wardrobe are black, red/burgundy and purple, with small touches of navy, fuschia, and forest green thrown in from time to time. And looking in my closet, especially at my dance dresses, purple is clearly it. Photographic evidence below:

The dress above is in my favorite fabric from Eagle Ray Traders based in MA, vendors at many NE dance and folk festivals. I love this fabric so much that I have three dresses it in: the short jumper shown, a long jumper and a short flippy dress.

This picture is from a few days ago at the Baltimore Playford Ball. The dress is one of my favorites - the shape of a ball gown, but in comfortable cotton. You throw it in the washer, and then in the dryer. The skirt has all kinds of spin, and it is, of course, purple, with the added bonus of swirls:

I have two other versions of the dress. The first one of that pattern is green. Number two is above, and number three is, not surprisingly, purple, with an oak leaf pattern.

And I've just come back from a fitting for my Jane Austen dress, actually a practice, less formal dress than the eventual ball gown will be. When I went fabric shopping for the fancy dress, I was looking for burgundy, but came away with, yes, purple. And when we decided to do the less formal dress first, just to see if the style was plausible on me, what color was the many yards-worth of fabric I just had lying around the house. Yes, right again, purple.

Hopeless! But hopelessly wonderfully purple!

"Purple," they all shouted!

Did the obsession start with Mouse Paint, the greatest book in the universe? I can't be sure, but clearly purple feet in the form of purple socks and purple toenail polish are really just the best thing going. Right up there with stripey socks.

On Saturday, as I was dashing off to my hair appointment before heading up to Boston, I realized I had forgotten the burgundy tights I was going to wear with my always-fashionable black dress. Undeterred, I made time for a stop at the store (and somehow also managed to squeeze in a quick run through Ikea on the way...) to find tights. In my largely uncaffeinated state, I didn't find the tights, but when I did:



"Purple," she shouted!

Perfect! I bought three pairs and wonder now if that was enough.

If the shoe fits...

Mom laughed at me tonight when I told her I'd bought a new pair of shoes. And she wasn't wrong to have done that either.

When I was packing up to move I was flabbergasted by the number of pairs of shoes I had. Where did they all come from? I couldn't have purchased them all, could I? Surely they grew there. Or were gifts.

And then why, amongst the thousands of pairs scattered among my closets, were there none to suit my needs? Or was I just in great need of some retail therapy? (Did someone get her stimulus check? I think it's working.)

Whatever the reason, I am now the proud owner of these shoes:

They look alarmingly like the shoes I am replacing - the ones with all of the air conditioning in the sides. But the main point is that they are comfortable, wide enough for my feet, and black. I will wear them almost every day. Starting tomorrow.

Along with the shoes, the helpful salesperson gave me an envelope and a brochure. Ecco will essentially rebuild my nearly dead shoes for about half the price of new shoes. It's so worth it. I'm going to mail them off right away.

But the real question is, do I need these shoes in color #66?