Today was a shopping day. I bought a pale pink cardigan today. While I bought the less fluzzy of two options, this one has pearl buttons, and beading designs on it. The label says “vintage” but it’s from Farmers. It’s like, and it kind of pains me to use this word, almost prissy. But I kept thinking “what would Willow wear?” when I was trying it on, and I think I got confuzzled. We’ll see how it ends up.
Later in Waikanae at the Minx Factory Shop, I was totally like “omg, look at all these totally cute shoes!” and again, wondering how they would fit in with my lifestyle with their multi-coloured wonderness. Minx make shoes in big sizes, but apparently I have huge big slabs of fat on top of my basic foot structure (well, this is probably true) because the 11s were tight and bulgy on my flesh (as opposed to my toes). I ended up trying on size 12s instead (twelves! You know that horrible band Lit and that horrible song “You make me come. You make me complete. You make me completely miserable”, and in the video they have Pamela Anderson lolling around, and minature members of the band dance on top of her upturned feet? Well I could host the motherfucking (and grumpy) Polyphonic Spree on my meatplates. Apparently. Anyways, I got these ones, in a black 12:
They’re like, totally cute. And they have polka-dot lining, which, when I was at Oma’s afterwards and she was talking about picking out her coffin I suggested she pursue for her lining. Then she pondered whether if she’d be cremated in the coffin, or if they took bodies out, and if that aws the case, did they still have Opa’s coffin, and could she just use that instead? Of course, Oma is half the size that Opa was, so that wouldn’t work out. She said that she’d worried when we grandchildren carried Opa’s coffin briefly that it was too heavy for Jacinta, and she was happy that she’d be a lot lighter. I suggested she could be carried with one hand, like a pizza, or a tray of drinks. Is this a conversation any of you have had with your grandmother? It was kind of strange. It started when she was talking about how she didn’t want to be kept alive (I wouldn’t either), partly because it’d be no fun for the family, so I suggested that we’d play poker around her bed, and then Mum suggested Strip Poker, and it’s just all wrong wrong wrong.
Fun fact: at my last job I used to work in teh same building and vaguely for the same people as Karen. In my new job, which starts on Tuesday if you were keeping track, I will be working on websites for the organisation that Anji works for, and if you want to keep the family connection going also my aunt Diz.
Good times. You know what? Maybe I’m developing a Pleasantville costume for myself. Freaky. But perhaps if I worry about being like, too totally cute I’ll just remind myself of the little pockets of air that I got yesterday. I could put someone’s eye out with those things, but it would be a happy death for all concerned.