Who's that knocking at the door? If it's (YOU GUYS)
Let 'em in and sit 'em on a pin (SORRY SORRY), and we won't vote for Amber anymore
Shut the door forty-four, you're out!
Okay but if you haven't yet, please go check out the shortlist for Arc Poetry Magazine's 2015 Poem of the Year where you can see my poem, "By the time he hit the floor"
and vote for your pick to win the Readers' Choice Award. (Voting now closed—thanks everyone!!)
Okay, now the outfit talk:
|brown wool hat: Parkhurst Basque beret, from beloved Netty Vintage, worn here|
plaid flannel shirt: Finley, Dillard's, 75% off sale (a.k.a. "Shoepocalypse")
sort-of obi / wrap belt: no-name, ebay
brown midi skirt: Worthington, thrifted, worn here
scarf: local discount / overstock store, worn here other-patterned-side out
red skipping shoes: Fluevog Modvogs Jen
And now we can totally see some awesome Grandmas with a jump rope:
I'll be taking my beret over to Judith's Style Crone for April's Hat Attack! And I'm done being bossy, promise. I have moved on to the deep ponderings of the universe: Why don't skipping / jump rope / clapping songs make much sense, Miss Mary Mack? And why don't I have any brown shoes?