Dale and the magic necklace...

My knee is still a work in progress, or maybe regress. I decided to go to the doctor, but was in no mood to put on make-up. The visit did, however, require I put on clothes. I randomly pinned my unruly hair into not exactly a chignon, more like a dozen little chignons all over the back of my head. I had already put on a stained long sleeved white t-shirt and straight-leg cords in hopes of working in my studio, but the cords had to go since I can't roll them above my knee for the doctor.

I grabbed a dress/skirt/ wrap thing I bought on the spur of the moment from a television pitch. The first time I wore it required a visit to the internet and zeroing in on the simplest way to twist and knot the stretchy mass of black into a dress. I am easily disoriented, so following such directions is stressful, similar to an experience I had 25 years ago with a  baby carrier for which I had to lay out the directions, line myself up facing the same way as the paper, and painstakingly adjusting belts and buckles. With regard to the dress/skirt/wrap (skrap?), after the first wearing I can't be bothered, and just wear the big tube of fabric as a skirt. It's kind of like getting a printer/scanner/copier versus just a printer. It does many jobs, but none of them well.

As I headed out the door, (or I should say 'clamored' because limping sounds too elegant), and recalled a friend telling me how she plans her wardrobes around my jewelry. She claims that regardless of what she is wearing, one of my necklaces makes it an outfit. It was a stretch, but I had a stain on my shirt I needed to cover, so I put on the necklace in the photo which I have come to call "the magic necklace."

I am not very adept at walking in the best of circumstances.  I bump into someone almost daily, but only just recently realized it most likely has something to do with the ambiguous nature of my stride which is on the order of Jacques Tati's halting lope in the movie Mon Oncle. Put me on crutches and I take on the random movement found in insects and studied by robotic experts.

I hobbled through the sliding glass doors that open into the lobby of the doctor's office, checking to make sure I hadn't tucked the handkerchief hem of my 'skrap' into my panties. A lady seated next to the elevator looked up at me as I pushed the button and said "I love your outfit!" There is only one explanation, well, maybe two: 1. The asymmetrical handkerchief hem of the skrap 2.The spell cast by my magic necklace. 

Today I am off to the dentist for my 2nd crown in as many weeks. I am currently wearing garish mustard yellow corduroys and a black tank top (am I trying to look tacky?). I retain the flower child make-upless face of my youth sans the youth, and I've got the same quirky hairstyle going on.  I don't know what I'll do to make myself presentable to the public, only that it will involve a magic necklace. To be continued...