Faking it

It may be the last outpost of winter, but it ain't the last bit of knit you've seen from me.


This is the outfit from my previous post, I'm wearing a dress my mother knitted for me a couple of years back, paired with with a bright scarf and beret ('cause black doesn't love me back).



No vintage items here (apart from a hat pin you can't see), I'm doing what I do - if not best- most often: improvise the look. And let me tell you, I hate improvising, but somehow I think this works.


Thanks mum! She has just finished another green knit jacket & skirt for me, not the first piece executed long distance mode (we live countries apart, and now that I think of it this black dress too was long distance!).
However this is the first time ever when I took measurements, sent a color sample and an actual vintage catalog picture to reproduce. Not the pattern as such - since she hasn't learnt knitting from books or a course, she doesn't do technical terms.
Also, my color choice efforts went a bit bust because she rushed out to buy the wool before the sample actually reached her. As a result she's now worried that the green might not be quite the match...What can I say? It will have to do. Let us hope now that at least my measurements were correct.
I should have the suit in a few weeks time so I'll probably end up doing yet another winter post sometimes in ... June.

A feeling of blue

March is the time of the year when I invariably summon the light and the blue.



When I lose myself, time and time again, in the same old pleasure: watching the light hit a wall and bounce back. Waiting for an elastic ray to snap my face, a silent exercise of pure joy.

Once it hits I am there forever, happy paralyzed submissive fly, stunned to the wall trying to swallow the light, engulfed by it. An offering to the sun, abandoned to its grin. Insignificant little parasite who found a home in the skin of the season.




Crisp cool shot of light, sling me into the spring. Make me part of its fine mechanism that propels life a blue further.



And I'm gone... Dipping into the blue, nothing but a brush.