|Dress: Weston Wear, Vest: from Norway, Clutch: Anthro, Shoes: Birkenstocks|
So I'm always looking for new ways to style this dress, and this is how I wore it on the warmest day of the year. The, uh, somethingth of July. I really like how the vest sort of evens out the shoulders of this outfit - and weirdly, everything kind of blends together colour-wise, no? Also, say hi to my Norwegian flag clutch again - I'm trying to get as much mileage out of it as I can before summer ends - autumn is officially on its way, I can feel it in the cool night breeze. Just last a little longer, summer - please?
On a completely different note, we went to see Guardians of the Galaxy with Second Wife this Saturday night, and it was great! It's been ages since I had so much fun watching a movie - I didn't know anything about the comic they based it on, so if they changed anything, it didn't bother me the way it might have bothered actual fans of the series. The idea of a human guy out there in space listening to 70's rock on his walkman while blasting aliens appeals to me .So does a foul-mouthed little gun-totin' raccoon who is also a mad genius inventor, and a tree-like alien called Groot, whose vocabulary is strictly limited to, "I am Groot."
After the movie, we were waiting for the bus, and this guy came and sat next to us on the bench - or rather, next to me, though it was Victor he talked to. All I can say is, "Holy deodorant, Batman!" because that guy stank of alcohol-sweat. He started off by asking for a light (none of us smoke), then struck up a conversation with Victor about how evil all women are, "once they sink their claws into you", and how he was on his 500th girlfriend or so, his wife having obviously kicked him out and taken him to the cleaners. Can't imagine why, charming guy like that... I'd have just felt sorry for him if it wasn't for the fact that he had to lean past me to talk to Victor, and the smell just about had me climbing the walls of the bus shed.
And then... wait for it... then this guy asks Victor, "Are you Arabic?" There was a moment of stunned silence, before Victor burst out laughing - "Do I look Arabic, dude?" The drunk thoughtfully gazed at my (Chinese) husband and told him, "Yeah, you do. You look Moroccan."
Luckily we were saved by the bell just then, or rather, by the bus - and thanks be to all the benevolent powers in the universe, the guy wasn't getting on the same bus as we were. I still like to ask Victor if he's Arabic every now and then, just to keep him on his toes. The last time I asked, I think he answered something like, "Huh... Maybe?"