Brides and stitches

[smokingboot]

Following the advice of itsjustaname and larians I joined my bridal friends in shopping yesterday.


People are gorgeous, they just don't know it. What is it about British brides? Why is there this deep need to blend in with a Constable landscape? White's no good for the pasty, the pink, and the speckled, so blend it with a little mud and we'll call it beige, or a little yellow and we'll call it cream or a little salmon and we'll call it champagne, or a little grey and we'll call it filing cabinet silver, and then we'll wear the horrible stuff. Urrgh, the very thought sends shivers down my spine. What bloodless, half-hearted passionless rubbish to put against one's skin!

Give us scarlet dresses and big black hats with poppies and very dark roses on them, give us ocean colours, glorious blues and seashell bouquets, give us verdant dryads fresh from the woods, give us rich purples and pinks, gothic burgundies, top hats, medieval crowns, mighty mantillas. Down with moderation and modesty and hideous apologetic clothes fit only for shamed puffins. And down, down with pastels, down, I say!



My dress-seeking chums are not as exuberant as I, but we found styles full of elegance and pizazz, and I have no doubt that they'll be exquisite brides.

Stitches came out too.


Pathology for excision 2 is clean. All Sauron's evil has been scooped up, and there are no malignant cells left as far as they know. Small downer, apparently Sauron may attempt a return, for which reason I shouldn't put henna tattoos or any other skin dye on the area - one symptom of recurring naughtiness is a change in skin pigment, so they need to be able to see it. They want to photograph all my moles! They say it will be a reference should any moles play up in the future. I think it's because they know my entire body is a 3D grid map of the galaxy. I'm not sure Oldham Royal Hospital can be trusted with this information.



Apart from endless check-ups, it is over. I have had so much support from friends, and especially from larians my love and my best friend.
Thank you for everything.

Tonight is the night of St Brigid, Candlemass, night of the Bride, appropriately enough. Most of the seeds I planted this time last year died, but the heathers and herbs survived and are still going strong. The Samhain season is often very good for me; this one has been hard and weird. I am glad to feel it give way to the time of Brigid, lover of snowdrops, protector of early lambs. A friend is about to give birth, another has just told me she is pregnant. Time for new beginnings.

And another cup of coffee.

Comments

[larians.livejournal.com]

I love you regardless of what you wear - you are indeed be filthy gorgeous!