Is it time to release your inner Jean Harlow? It is indeed. January 31, 2010 08:19 4 Comments

You've looked high. You've looked low. Neiman Marcus. Saks. That sweet little boutique around the corner. You've done it all. You've practically worn a hole in the soles of your red leather Evins pumps. Still, other than a box of pralines and a loaf of French sourdough, you are empty-handed. (Well, you deserve a treat after all this walking, all this frustration, don't you? Yes. Of course you do. Bread and butter, then pralines for dessert. Yum.)

Wait. An idea. Why not make something? After all, you do know how to sew. Well, you did. Once. Your momma taught you way back when. It's like riding a bike, isn't it? Isn't it? You have Aunt Nedra's machine. Somewhere. Probably in the back of the guest room closet. Yes. That's where it is. You have a vague memory of stuffing it there, along with a box of her quilting supplies.

And this is one of those occasions. Worth the extra effort. Important. A party. Yes, you hate them. But it's for him. And you'll be meeting his friends. And since you're socially inept — no need to lie to yourself about your flaws — you want to look good. Great. Over the moon. Look good, keep your mouth shut, stifle that tendency to talk too much when you're nervous.

Simplicity 1971 — circa the 1930s, your favorite fashion era — is perfect. It will be slinky, sexy, yet comfortable. The style will show off your shoulders and your back. Add your bakelite bangles, and you will stun. Absolutely. But you won't look like you're trying too hard.

Yes. This is the one. It is. You'll find it at The Blue Gardenia.

Is he the one? Mmmmm. Probably not. But he does get your motor running. For now.

Shameless plug: Wanna see my petticoat? It's boned, ya know. January 30, 2010 07:43

This coat has such unusual lines. Very slimming. (Although if you wear a Bust 32 that's probably not an issue.)

McCall's 4527 is so pretty. Pretty. Pretty. Pretty. No wonder Ms. Thing is showing off those  button details. They are delish. This is a 1958 pattern, in case you care. And of course  you do.

New York Designers' Collection N/8838 reaches the very pinnacle of mod. Love the slight flare of the coat, the slim pleated trousers. The shoes - not so much.

And if you've been yearning to flirt with your fan, I suggest McCall's 8728. The evening length petticoat uses featherbone for staying power and a complete retro look.

You can find all these styles  at The Blue Gardenia.  That is, if you hurry. So click over. Now. Don't delay. You don't want to miss any of these beauties. Do you?

Blue velvet. Chiffon the color of dried mangos. It's SAG fashion. January 24, 2010 11:46 2 Comments

I confess: I was eager to return to my novel last night, dear readers. So eager, in fact, that I chose to delay sharing my thoughts on the Screen Actors Guild award show fashion. You were unable to get to sleep, repeatedly hitting the refresh key on  your computer, sure that I would post any minute. I'm right, am I not? I am. And if not, please, allow me my delusions.

Anyway, assuming that old saying is true, here you go.

Favorite dress: The simple, elegant Narciso Rodriguez gown chosen by Julianna Margulies. Love the lines. Love the velvet. I'd wear it. And I'd be one happy and glamorous woman.

Runners-up: The sexy Emilio Pucci that plunges to there on Kate Hudson. Very fetching. Very sophisticated. I could do without the glittering inset. I could. I say, let the lines speak for themselves. Still, this dress is fabulous. However, in this little blogger's book, Julie Christie's gown in Shampoo is still the rear revealing gown to beat.

Diane Kruger's gown does it all and more. Jason Wu's creation definitely has retro allure. So very Ava. And so very bold of Kruger to choose that dried mango color. So very brave to pair it with red lipstick. But. It works. And how. (You remember that Wu designed Michelle Obama's inaugural ballgown.)

And then there's this kindergarten class project worn by Marion Cotillard. It's not a runner-up. No no no. It's first place in the nightmare category. As in, one you really want to wake from. Egads. What can I say except keep the kids away from the paste, beads and feathers. And if you don't, please don't share the results with the world. The shoes are clunkers, too. Blame the dress on Elie Saab. Cotillard looked perfect at the Golden Globes. Oh, well. 

So. Better late than never? Do say it's so.

Adjust Spanx. Arrange skirt. Step out of limo. Say cheese. January 17, 2010 17:07 5 Comments

The perfect skirt for when the evening sun is sinking low January 9, 2010 14:45 1 Comment

The room is dark. The stove light seeps through the crack in the door. You are in his arms. Held tight. You sway. Back and forth. Right and left. Slowly. This is not a rumba. This is not a foxtrot. This is not a waltz. This is the grind. Plain. Simple. Sexy. The same one your best girlfriend Yvette taught you in junior high. This is not junior high. He is not your best girlfriend. Far from it. Oh so.

You feel the ash floor underneath your feet. You kicked off your shoes long ago. Your stockings make no sound as you move. The taffeta of your full skirt rustles. You do not hear. You don't. You are lost in the music. You hear only Sam and his band.  It might be one o'clock and it might be three. Time don't mean that much to me.  I ain't felt this good since I don't know when and I might not feel this good again.

Your hand is strong in his. Firm. Equal. You can do this all night. All night. Keep those Sam Cooke records playing. Yeah.

Yeah.

Hurry, scurry: Our once-a-year sale ends in mere hours! January 7, 2010 06:59

I'm tired. Lazy. Sluggish. Peanut butter on toast failed to work its energy magic today. Nonetheless, dear readers, here I sit, trying to find a creative way to say that the countdown has begun for The Blue Gardenia's once-a-year sale. 

So. I think I will let this gorgeous 1940s evening gown, Butterick 3625, do the talking — and selling — for me. Work hard, lovely pattern, work hard. Please.

Here are the sale details. And you'll note it ends tonight. Tonight! Buy 3 or more items, get 33% off. Sale prices are good through midnight PST today, January 7. All payments must be in my eager paws by January 9, 2010. As always, TBG takes American Express, Discover, Mastercard, Visa, Paypal, non-rubber checks and cold, hard cash. And you are all smart cookies, so you know to shop now. Time's wasting.

Textbook attire for teaching His Bertness to bake bread January 3, 2010 07:09

I, dear readers, have spent the morning and early afternoon teaching His Bertness to bake. Paul Prudhomme's Honey Bread, if I may add the details. And I may, correct? Because you want to know all the details of my ever-so-exciting small town life. Right? What a resounding and enthusiastic chorus of ayes. I'm pleased. I'm impressed. Absolutely.

Now, to really play the part of the small town baker, I should be wearing a fetching frock like Simplicity 2838, copyright 1948. It's a wrap dress - yep, decades before DVF - and it looks quite comfy. Perhaps not as comfortable as the yoga capris and top I am wearing as I write this post, but then, really, what is?

And please allow me to step up to the podium to extend a thank you to Shannon, she of the well-groomed fingernails and the blog I can't stop reading, Hungry Zombie Couture. Shannon wrote a fabulous post about some patterns she purchased at The Blue Gardenia. I know you'll want to see what she bought. Excellent taste has she. She has my vote for the best-dressed teacher in Canada. Absolutely.

And don't forget to stop by and check out our once-a-year sale. The skinny:  Buy 3 or more items, get 33% off. Sale prices are good now, this minute, through midnight PST Thursday, January 7. All payments must be in my eager paws by January 9, 2010. As always, TBG takes American Express, Discover, Mastercard, Visa, Paypal, non-rubber checks and cold, hard cash.

I will contain my gratitude no longer. I won't. I won't. I won't. January 1, 2010 07:27 1 Comment

I am taking a moment from teaching His Bertness to make chili to issue a most heartfelt thank you to a few folks. I am. So, listen up.

First up: Carolyn Norman, whose blog Dairy of a Sewing Fanatic has long been a favorite. Thank you so very much, Carolyn, for the post about The Blue Gardenia. It has brought so many new customers, and I hope all will join our roster of regulars.

Ditto to Gretchen, of Gertie's New Blog for Better Sewing. Her blog is a new addiction, and for all of you out there: I want that book! I do. I do. I do. Namely Vogue's New Book for Better Sewing.

And I am also ever so pleased and grateful that Oliver + S listed The Blue Gardenia as something that should always be hanging above everyone's sewing machine. Wow! Thank you! That makes me so very happy. Yes indeedy.

Further, while this attitude of gratitude is swelling to bursting point, I'd like to thank Vicki at Yavapai Regional Medical Center, who went above and beyond to handle an insurance issue for me. Unasked. She volunteered! This week. A holiday week.

And I'd also like to thank my parents and my in-laws for being there this year. And His Bertness for learning to cook because sometimes I am just too tired to whip up tasty vittles. Love that cheerful, willing attitude, honey bunch. Yes, I do.

So. There ya go. Thank you. Thank you! THANK YOU! (Yes, my voice is  raised in appreciation.)

And just so I'll have art, how about gear for cooking chili? Simplicity 3382, Bust 42, copyright 1950, $33 at The Blue Gardenia, will have you looking as good as the chili will taste.

Oh, and thank you, Michael Buble, for covering Baby (You've Got What It Takes). Still like the Brook and Dinah version best, but your cover with Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings is not shabby. Not at all.

Gee. I feel like I should be standing behind a microphone, clad in a tight, shimmery evening gown. Vintage, of course.

So. Happy 2010, everyone. I hope it's your very best ever. Ever. Absolutely. (Until 2011 anyway.)

For that Mildred Pierce moment: Modes Royale 336 December 29, 2009 12:59

Ahhh, New Year's Eve. You have to work. A busy day. Tight end-of-year deadlines with absolutely no room for wiggling. You'll have to rush straight from the office to dinner with your honey bunch. That is the only way. But. What to wear? That is today's question. There must be something that says both business and beauty. Something. But what?

Perhaps Modes Royale 336, circa 1940s. Don't-mess-with-me shoulders. Sassy pleats. A hide-anything pocket with a button. A button!  Big enough for a lipstick, a pen and a notepad. Love it. Yep. This is the one. Perfection. Absolutely.

Shameless plug: Motor running? Our once-a-year sale starts now! December 26, 2009 16:26

Just this once, I won't waste your time with needless words. Really. I promise. Brief. To the point. That's me at this moment. So. Intro over, here you go: It's time for The Blue Gardenia's once-a-year sale. The lowdown: Buy 3 or more items, get 33% off. Sale prices are good now, this minute, through midnight PST Thursday, January 7. All payments must be in my eager paws by January 9, 2010. As always, TBG takes American Express, Discover, Mastercard, Visa, Paypal, non-rubber checks and cold, hard cash. And you are all smart cookies, so you know to shop early for the best selection. Like now, this moment. Or this oh-so-mod, oh-so-Shrimpton Pierre Cardin number will be gone. Scurry. Hurry.

The Little Town of Horrors: An update December 16, 2009 04:23 2 Comments

Light. Bright. Isn't that what this blog should be about? Isn't that what I should be? Always looking on the bright side, choosing the sunny side of the street, brightening the days of those I see with a smile, a regular Emilie Loring heroine. Oh. Oh. Oh. If only that were so.

I am here to tell you it is not. There are days, like today, when I feel like crying. When I feel like being a nagging spousal unit. Yesterday, His Bertness went officially eight months — EIGHT! – without a job. And the Great Recession has more than nipped The Blue Gardenia's sales. (See, dear readers, I respect you. I won't disrespect you by pretending sales are soaring like a maiden's skirt on a windy day. No pretense. Nada.)

I understand, though, that counting my blessings will help restore equilibrium to my mood. Here goes (and I won't bore you with all of them — I'm going to keep a few blessings private): 

We have health insurance. Yippee skippee. Not because of government intervention. I am here to tell you our letters to both our Democratic representative and our Republican senators yielded no fruit. But. Hubby's persistence did result in the restoration of our COBRA benefits. (Although we did have to pay for the months we were uninsured as well. That was a chunk plus. Practically a trunk of money, even with Obama's stimulus benefit.)

We have family support, and that is invaluable, financially and emotionally. 

I have a wonderful Pilates instructor, who donates time to those with MS. Suzanne Fisher, you are a peach.

So. There ya go. Just a few. I'm feeling better already. Although I still want to blow this pop stand. The sooner, the better. As someone once said. Absolutely.

Shameless plug: You deserve a Christmas present. You do. December 6, 2009 12:52

Do you have your smelling salts handy? If not, fetch them. Quick. Why? Because we have just added fabulous patterns to

Shall I share my favorites, the ones that have this little heart o' mine going pittter-patter-pitter-patter-pitter-patter? I shall. You know it.

In no particular order, here they are:

McCall 6370, copyright 1947. This bustle blouse is totally gorgeous. Totally noir. You could wear it for evening or for day. The important thing is to wear it. Absolutely.

And if you need an evening dress, of the tell-me-where-you go-it-now-or-else variety, then look no further than Simplicity 2229, circa 1930s. This one is not cut on the bias, but you could do so, if you dared. It's fully loaded as is, though. And since there are not one but two dresses in it, it's truly an investment pattern. Worth every penny. Truly.

Another outstanding evening dress, with a nod to style maven Madonna, is Vogue Designer Original 1605, copyright 1995. It's designed by Bellville Sassoon, and it is stunning, stunning, stunning, and ever-so-sexy, from its laced corset bodice to its flirty and full skirt. Imagine the rustles if you made it in a stiff satin. Love this one. Love it. Absolutely. Do you dare where it to the office Christmas bash? Mmmmm . . . I say, yes, go for it. Those nerdy co-workers deserve a treat. So let it be your Christmas present to them, Ms. Generosity, you.

And for your ladylike moments — and I know you have them — McCall 9366. So Grace Kelly. So very. Love the flap details. The stole. The slim silhouette. You could even make it out of silk shantung for a cocktail dress conversion. I want this one in my size. I do. Got it in a Bust 36 or 38? Call me. Do. And, by the way, in case you care, it's from 1953. Did I say this one has me salivating? It does. Really.

There are so many more marvelous patterns! I would not lie. I would not give you, dear, dear readers, false hope. I wouldn't.

So. Click. Shop. Enjoy. You've been good. You've been shopping, shopping, shopping for everyone else. Now you, my princess or prince, you deserve a present. Or two. Santa told me so. You have been good this year. So very, very.

You'll also find new in Maternity, and there are quite a few ensembles suitable for Betty Draper. And, as always, new additions go at the beginning of each category to make it easier for our loyal customers (I thank you, I do). And remember, we take Mastercard, Visa, Discover and Amex, as well as Paypal, to make it easier for you. So rush on over. After all, I need groceries. I like my Joan Holloway hips.

Oh, sloth. Be gone. Now. I command you. November 29, 2009 07:33 1 Comment

It's a holiday weekend, and that means I've been cocooning. Snuggling up in a chair, feet on an ottoman, eating pecan pie and watching bad TV or reading silly Southern novels. And my attire? Well, I'm not making Bette Davis proud. I'm wearing yoga pants, a tee-shirt and holey white socks. Now. I haven't done yoga since I impinged my rotator cuff in August. But that doesn't mean I've sidelined the comfy clothing.

Watching Casablanca yesterday, the thought struck: Shouldn't I be wearing a hat? That perhaps is going too far. Way. But perhaps I could kick my at-home wardrobe up a notch. Or even two. Say McCall 4520 and McCall 4803. Both from my favorite fashion era, the 1940s. The blouse in flowy rayon. The slacks in gabardine. Maybe some low platform wedges to kick off by the sofa. I could even comb my hair. Polish my nails. Bathe. Oh, the grooming improvements are endless!

Mmmmm . . . . But the big question, the really big one, is this: Can I give up cotton knit? It's a tough habit to kick. It's so stretchy. So soothing. So wash-and-wear. Am I strong enough? Am I? I must summon all my strength. I must.

Inspirations? Absolutely not! November 25, 2009 07:45 1 Comment

Now this . . . this is a party dress. Suitable for the most hoity toity crowd at the most hoity toity ball. All eyes will be on you. Wondering "what the heck was she thinking?" 

It's structural, yes. And that  is good. But it's silly. Too. Much, much too. Vogue Couturier 298, circa 1946. Would I wear it? Not in a million. I don't want rayon-taffeta swirls above my bosom. Too frilly. Too silly. Too doll cake. But the color, so strawberry-luscious, is delectable. That I admit.

Ahhhhh, domesticity. There's cooking. And then there's sewing. November 21, 2009 10:04 1 Comment

I have exciting news to share.  His Bertness is learning to cook! Now. Those of you who know him well know that he has been more than resistant to learning to cook. In fact, in the 18 years of our marriage — before now — he has mastered one dish: homemade chicken broth. 

But this week, he made a taco casserole all by himself. All  by himself! It was quite tasty. Yesterday, he shaped and baked these Oatmeal Chocolate Crisps. Don't they look scrumptious? They are, I can attest. Today, perhaps, he'll learn to make dinner rolls. I can smell them now. Yumbunnies.

Before you know it, dear readers, I'll be sewing. Because if His Bertness can learn to cook . . .

Inspirations: The perfect dress for the perfect seduction November 16, 2009 16:46 2 Comments

It is late at the adult center. Very. The DJ has played horrid music all night. Music he regards, you are quite sure, as youthful.

Sigh. Heavy sigh. Long sigh, dramatically drawn out. Susan Hayward is, after all, your role model.

Fantasy time-out. You are wearing McCall 3440, copyright 1955. The 4-ply silk crepe caresses your skin. The hydrangea pink flatters your softly fading tan. You feel wonderful. You feel irresistible. You feel like you are going to live forever and enjoy each and every moment.

A finger flicks your shoulder. A voice murmurs in your ear, May I have this dance? Your reverie interrupted. Suddenly. Drat. You are annoyed. Oh so. But then, the notes of Noche De Ronda, your favorite rumba, begin. Spanish guitar. You cannot say no. You want to dance. You must dance. You put your hand in your partner's. Rise to your feet. Only then do you lift your eyes. Only then do you realize your partner is Don Draper. None other. Calm. Solid. Handsome. But is he a polished dancer? Mmmmmm. It's your fantasy. You decide.

Let the dust bunnies Charleston in all the extra space. November 15, 2009 10:39 2 Comments

Yesterday, I held a garage sale. Yet another painful, dusty step toward decluttering. Toward horizons unknown when His Bertness lands that dream job. Heck, any job that keeps a roof over our heads and crunchy peanut butter on the table will be fine. Even if it's in South Dakota. Even. I understand layering really works. I'm skeptical. I am.

Anyway. For me, decluttering always reveals treasures. And one is this picture of L'Nora Goldman Calhoun. She's the babe on the left with the smile as wide as the Mississippi. Mam was quite the seamstress. I wonder if she ever made McCall 3929? So elegant with the dropped, scalloped waistline. Ladylike, yes. But sexy, too. 

And in case you were wondering — you were, weren't you? — I did not make much money at the garage sale. Some items did find new homes, though. And for that, an attitude of gratitude abounds. Really. 

Yes no maybe so certainly yes no maybe so October 28, 2009 09:28 1 Comment

To say yes? Such a commitment, she thinks, as she fingers the pages of Modern Bride. Such a commitment, she knows. She loves him. Certainly. That is not the question. That is not the issue. The issue is union. Solidarity. Taking her eyes off the door. Having no escape hatch. Because to her, marriage means forever. Forever. The word resounds in her brain. Forever.

It's not washing their smelly socks together that makes her hesitate. It's the finality. The limitations. Saying no to other possibilities. Accepting that he is the one. That he will be. Forever.

Accepting that she will be part of a couple. Legally. What is that saying — Buddhist, is it? — we are not two but one, we are not one but two? Impossible, this decision, she thinks. Impossible.  As are the gooey confections on the glossy pages of this bridal magazine.

She would choose something simple, should she decide to say yes. Something that speaks to the solemnity of the occasion. Something like Vogue's Bridal Design 2809. Even if she says no to him, she might say yes to this dress. In black velvet and lace. Knee length. No ribbon. Absolutely not. And if she says yes, yes to that lifetime challenge, perhaps silver satin. Yes. Definitely. Silver. Not white. It is not her color. It's dull. It's boring. It's traditional. 

Ahh, but the question. His question. Yes no maybe so certainly. If only marriage was as simple as skipping rope. Well. She will not answer the question today. The laundry beckons.

Silly? Perhaps. Mischievous? You bet. October 26, 2009 09:01 3 Comments

Do you ever have those days? You know? You burn the toast, and, gosh darn, those were your last two slices of bread. You drop the half-gallon of organic, BGH-free milk. It spills all over the kitchen floor. The accountant does not return your calls. Neither does her assistant. You puncture your pantyhose with a fingernail whose No Spain, No Gain polish is chipping. Drat. Darn. This is the day you need a pick-me-up, something more playful, with more attitude than caffeine. You need a frisky hat. A saucy hat. A hat that stands tall and defies the world to say boo. A hat that announces you will not be ignored. But yet  . . . a hat that laughs out loud in bell-like tones. You need this hat, from 1939. Ladies Home Journal 1615. Take it on the chin, naysayers. Because you will not be defeated. Not by blackened bread. Not by a soiled floor. Not by number crunchers. Not by nail polish. You have a sophisticated hat. Oh. So. It could be from Paris. London. But. You made it yourself. So there.

Inspirations: And don't forget shoulder pads the size of Learjets October 7, 2009 14:03 2 Comments

Does bad taste sometimes relentlessly clutch you and refuse to let go? Do you sometimes want to channel Krystle or Sammy Jo or push Alexis in the swimming pool or yank her hair until she yelps? Or maybe you just want to have fun and rock the '80s? Well, I suggest

Frosting and a cushy job with benefits would make life better October 3, 2009 08:39

Friday afternoon. Wild Iris. His Bertness. A cupcake. Fresh strawberries. Coffee. And my Pilates instructor, the kind and  generous Suzanne. Suzanne donates time each week to teach a class for MS sufferers at the Prescott YMCA. (Yes. It's true. The Little Town of Horrors does have a few benefits, and Suzanne Fisher is definitely one of them.) The class is free. Totally. Completely. Absolutely. And Suzanne is a skilled teacher who gently encourages her students to be technically perfect.

Suzanne's class proved to be serendipitous. I had just impinged my rotator cuff and was forced to take a break from my beloved yoga when I found out about the  class. I was apprehensive. Quite. Because my previous Pilates experience at the Y had, to say the very least, not been good. It had not even been Pilates. At least not Pilates as I had experienced it in Houston sessions with a Michele Larrson acolyte years ago. (Oh. My. This is excruciatingly boring, isn't it? I am giving you, my adored readers, too much info. Way too. I apologize to you both. Profusely.)

So. The bottom line is, the point of this post is that Suzanne just opened her own Pilates studio here. Pilates in Balance. So, if you find yourself here, in Prescott, AZ, and find yourself in need of Pilates training, give her a call. You will not be disappointed. She knows what she is doing.

And I will share this funny moment from yesterday as well: Fatigue is a symptom I suffer. It is sometimes extreme. Completely. I was so exhausted that I had to recline on the bed to put on my makeup. With a little Stila compact mirror. I imagine one eyebrow was higher than the other. Oh. Well. Sunset Boulevard is one of my favorite movies.

Autumn in Mexico: This is what the gringo said to pack. October 2, 2009 07:17

Today, current ex-pat, former newspaperman and ever-so-handsome and sometimes disagreeable (Is there a man who isn't? If so, introduce me. Now.) co-worker Felipe Zapata shared a video of his town, Patzcuaro, in his blog,  

Of course, I thought of visiting. Naturally, the thought of what garments to pack for my fantasy trip came to mind. One item that would be a definite take-along: McCall 5760, copyright 1944. It has that Ilsa flair, does it not? It does. Absolutely. Emphatically. And I would look quite the 1940s film heroine if I accessorized with Granville Millinery's Power Play hat. But would would this catch the unwanted attention of the narcos? Mmmmm. I do not know. One must look to Mr. Zapata for that answer.

Shameless plug: How about a nice, juicy strawberry? October 1, 2009 15:27

So. I've taken some time from my busy life to add patterns. Just for you. And you. And you. Yes. And you. I did not forget you. I didn't. And here are a few of my favorites:

You're feeling prim yet sophisticated. Straitlaced yet sassy. Is there any more suitable dress for such a mood than Vogue Couturier 252 from the 1930s? I think not. Just look at those godets.

And for those chilly evenings this fall, when you want to look regal in the firelight as you ponder deep girly thoughts, choose Simplicity 3593, copyright 1951. Or you could stitch up the short house dress version and don it for Saturday morning chores. If you must. I won't be responsible for frightened dustbunnies. I won't.

And speaking of Saturday mornings and household tasks and all that, McCall's 2015 from 1955 is just the thing to wear as you whip the eggs and fry the bacon and squeeze the oranges. Because you do squeeze your own orange juice? Of course you do. I know it.

You like? I hope so. If not, scurry on over to The Blue Gardenia. You'll find something you like. I'm sure of it. And now for those pesky details, new additions always go at the beginning of each category. And we take Mastercard, Visa, Discover and Amex, as well as Paypal to make it easier for you. And, of course, checks, money orders and cold hard cash. Actually, we take warm soft cash, too. We are so agreeable.

Inspirations: In the sewing room. On the dance floor. September 26, 2009 17:55

And if you want to see Natalia and Gabriel dance, well, here you go. I'll make it easy for you. Naturally. So. Watch them. Now.

Have a tall, icy glass of water close at hand. I will not be responsible if your temperature soars to dangerous heights. I won't.