wasting time,  writing life

Art Day

It’s Art Day here in the office. Me, myself and my coworkers are dressed accordingly.

This is how you dress for Art Day:

  1. Go to your closet
  2. Pick out all the fun and breezy things you want to wear, louder/weirder the better
  3. Accessorize loudly, break bounds, make your fingers shout with the crazy.
  4. Finish off with a ridiculous pair of socks.
  5. Wear with pride.

Did you know, it’s super hard to take a picture of yourself with one hand, at arms length?

Today, I decided that I’d wear my sack. It is truly a sack, not just a derogatory description of a fine dress nicknamed by the hubby. I bought it off Etsy from a woman in Lithuania who makes them. The arms are tight but the body of the dress has fabric that has been double folded so it literally billows like a sack. The back has a diving V down it with a black ribbon that dangles from the point. Thus, I’ve added a knitted shawl to prevent frost bite. To add more crazy I’ve added a turquoise ring the size of my face and matching thigh-high leggings.

Hot n’ sexy stocking’d legs… you should see my stomach, it’s rock solid Jell-o.

The result is a psychotic bundle of fabric and acssesorized joy. Of which will make me a more productive and creatively inspired writer.

And what started Art Day you ask? I didn’t want to wear underwear. [Please dear god don’t let the UPS man show up with a Signature Required package. Otherwise there will be heart attacks.]


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