Fashionista Forward!!


Curlfest Prospect Park Brooklyn 2016

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fashionable/

Ladies and Gents this is just the appetizer!!

More Sartorial Splendor to come!!

Introduction

Great minds think alike. When I was younger I was a real Fashionista as the saying goes. Of course when I was a little girl my Dad would take me shopping in Macy’s and basically he picked out all my clothes. Fortunately Daddy had good taste. I also picked up my sense of style from my mother and my paternal aunts. I idealized my late great Aunt Thelma a great deal. She would take me shopping to Syms and other downtown lower Manhattan stores back in the 70s. Aunt Thelma was a Fashion forward Lady. There was a running joke in our house that I had to get dressed up to take the garbage out!! LOL!!

Then in my 20s obviously I was picking out my own clothes and my favorite color was Black. In fact nearly everything in my wardrobe was Black and I had what looked like a million pairs of shoes!! My Dad asked me if I was practicing to be a Ninja and felt I was a follower of Imelda Marcos who was famous for all her pairs of shoes.

I also tended to be Matchy-matchy in my 20s & 30s perhaps a little into my 40s I suppose because at that time I was a manager at a Non-profit and I wanted to look professional. I did spice things up when I went out with my friends. Now as I make my way through my 50s getting dangerously close to 60 I’m all for the bright colors, patterns, loose fitting (my tummy is no longer flat), African, American-Indian jewelry, Clothing made in India. The clothing cannot be too loose or too big as I’m petite and I believe a Woman should wear her clothing. The clothes should not be wearing her. I’ve seen the now grown up Full House twins at museum special events and they are really small petite ladies and they looked like they were being swallowed up in their outfits.

I’m no longer afraid to mix what most people would call opposing patterns for an eclectic look. I’ve received many compliments from co-workers and friends on my outfits. Spring, summer and fall are my favorite seasons because I can really cut loose with outfits and I’m Thankful to the WWW/Web because I can get so many new and interesting ideas for what looks best on me.

I’m even doing a little more experimenting with make-up. I was never really big on make-up even when I was young, but adding a little color to my face to avoid looking washed out.  And of course there is the Manic Panic Red Hair!! Yes Always the RED HAIR!

 ♡ ☆ Fabulous Fifties


As you can see Purple is one of my favorite colors! ♡ ☆ 

 In these two photos taken at a friends birthday party I’m rocking the Royal Purple! ♡ ☆ 

I kinda look like on of those Bratz dolls. You know. A great big head and a little bitty body!!

 

Cannot forget or leave out my brother Stephen Palmer who is the most Amazing Awesome Autism Guy on the planet!!

Here you can see Stylin’ and Profiling!!  A mixture of Frank Sinatra, John Shaft, and Joe Cool!!  My brother Stephen is the Birth of the Cool!!

Wall Street Made Charles Murphy Successful and Rich, but Happiness Eluded Him


I immediately thought of the Richard Cory poem.

Richard Cory
BY EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
“Good-morning,” and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich—yes, richer than a king—
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Richard Cory Related Poem Content Details
BY EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
“Good-morning,” and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich—yes, richer than a king—
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Needull in a haystack

150413170333-wall-street-unhappiness-780x439

One of the many successful but not happy stories from Wall Street.

The next day, Mr. Murphy sat down for breakfast with his wife and children. As he left for work, the nanny took notice of Mr. Murphy’s suit and crisp shirt.

“You look good,” she said, according to a close family friend.

“I feel great,” Mr. Murphy responded.

That morning, Mr. Murphy worked in Paulson’s Midtown Manhattan office.

Later, he headed to the Sofitel New York hotel a few blocks away, checked into a room and jumped from the 24th floor.

The complete article

The Wall Street Journal

Image source

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Share Your World – April 17, 2017


 

Share Your World – April 17, 2017

Share Your World – April 17, 2017

share-your-world-syw

When writing by hand do you prefer to use a pencil or pen?

Probably pencil since it has an eraser but due to past carpal tunnel syndrome and arthritis my handwriting is illegible. My handwriting could be the but of those doctor handwriting jokes. Back when doctors used to write paper prescriptions. In New York doctors usually no longer write paper prescriptions as per a New York State Law requiring all prescriptions to be submitted directly to the patients pharmacy via computer.

Would you rather be an amazing dancer or an amazing singer?

Dancer. I admire the Nicholas Brothers, Gregory Hines and Savion Glover.

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you were on a debate team, what subject would you relish debating?

That’s a difficult question to answer. I used to be good at public speaking because it was a requirement of my previous job. Now you could not get me up on a podium unless you paid me $1 Million dollars. Nerves, anxiety and panic attacks would have me running off the stage, then again that would make a good topic, “Why I suck at public speaking.”

The only other subject I could discuss without appearing to be a complete idiot or fool would be on the subject of Autism, my relationship with my brother Stephen and Why Adult Siblings of Autistic Adults Matter.  Autism programs, services and organizations only cater to parents and once the parents are deceased and the individual with Autism is an Adult you are forgotten as well as the needs of Adult Siblings which are not addressed.  There is a serious Lack of Support Services for Adult Siblings trying to take of their developmentally disabled siblings.  My Life is a constant Struggle.

What are you a “natural” at doing?

Writing and photography.

Optional Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up? 

Warm weather. Looking forward to my vacation next month and summer.

 

 

 

 

 

Displaced Person


 

Displaced Person ~~ Never Belonging. Far from home.

She’s the Bitch. The chamber-pot of life.

She seriously thought of slicing him up one side and down the other when the bullet just missed her head. When his attempts at strangulation fell short. She saw his entrails wrapped tightly around his neck.

She didn’t slit his throat or beat the other one to expolsive bits with a baseball bat but she envisioned it. How many times can he slap me and get away with it. Too many to number. Infinity. Head wobbling.  Yellow-Green Snot pus slobber pouring out my nose down onto my uniform.

She rides in car streams of vomit, feces and urine. Mutilated. Mangled beings populate her dystopian universe. “S’cuse me but could you just step over that green bile coursing down the subway car?? Sludge blood concrete plug up my nose.

Code Blue! Code Blue! This is where fuck-ups and Losers with a capital L Land!!  The Land of Misfit girls & boys!!

Pink Floyd – another brick in the wall

 

There is no magic with mercenaries playing target practice with your head.

No victories only victims on their way to a saccharine based shag rug 70s hell.

The Celebration Doves just shit on my red plaid dress. She has been ground down to dust on by a wayward meal stone. Happy is the Costume. Despair/Sad is reality.

Please put down the white wash vanilla frosting. You are nothing but a pack of diseased vultures. I am a blood red velvet cupcake with arsenic inside. EAT ME!!

At the end of the rainbow is not gold but killer clowns from planet X-Pluto Negative 9.

WAR- SLIPPIN INTO DARKNESS

 

You’ve Entered a Forbidden Zone!!

Following limits are not amused.

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