Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Simply Elegant



Everyone is wearing red for the holidays, so I just had to design a special red outfit myself. Red is so .... exciting!

OK, I know I'm shameless, but I love it when people say, "You look beautiful today!" I feel let down if the dress gets all the compliments. :P When I design clothes, I want them to make me look good. And I want them to make you look good too.

So what makes a woman look good? I like to think of it as flow. It's about movement, yes, but it's more than that. Flow is about how well your clothes telegraph your shape and your personality. It's about line, form, color, and ... character. It's about whether your clothes fit who you are instead of struggling against you.

Flow is SO important in a skirt! You can tell when a skirt has flow, even when you are standing perfectly still. A feminine skirt hints at your shape -- doesn't shout it -- instead of imposing its shape on you. This one is slim, straight, and beautifully soft, and I made it so long that you could be barefoot and no one would ever know. It's designed to make you look graceful. Flexi has a mind of its own when you start jogging, but at least this skirt has a gentle personality. ;-)

The midriff is pleated satin, and the bodice is a deep red and black lace that has a hint of mystery and is very feminine. The V-neck is just deep enough to show off that lovely "Chinoisserie" necklace I bought from Muse last week. You probably have a favorite necklace that would look great with it too.

By the way, I really love this hair style. It's the new French twist style at Sirena's, the one she calls "Josephine." Red hair is just right with this dress, and it's my color too. Aren't I lucky?

I had no trouble at all deciding what to call this dress. It's "Simply Elegant," and you can find it in my shop on Elysian Isle.


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Today, instead of a tour, I want to share a poem. (Yes *blush*, it's one of mine.)


The World As I Know It

Comfortable familiarity aside,
Reality is overrated.
A flat canvas
bounded by perception.
.
Shackled in a foreign frame,
reality my prison,
I glimpse barely the horizon.
.
What lies beyond my portrait?
Am I me?
Or despite appearances
a medieval Jeanne d’Arc,
an Argentine explorer,
a rose by some exotic name?
.
To be is
not
to be.
.
To imagine
is to become
the artist.

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