If one cannot be learned, one can at least wear the accoutrements of the learned. More on my not-being-learned coming up next.
[Blue stockings by Target up the road; clogs by impulse purchase in Petersham four years ago; briny blue nylon carpet must not be ironed, according to my tenancy agreement.]
10 comments:
Ooh, wouldn't it go all crusty if you ironed it! yummy. Lucky you don't have rampaging kidlets.
emancipate your cleaning program!
is that bluestocking or second-wave or post-femo?
as lisa simpson once sighed, i don't even know any more.
clogs ahoy, x
In a brain snap, I thought you might have one of those whatcha-ma-call-thems on this, but didn't account for the ubiquitousness of plumbing in Petersham. No cigar.
The hue of those stockings is washing-detergent delightful. I will have to pop in to my local Target now, since they seem to have diversified their range (especially if there's a ribbed version). I can certainly see you swinging with Lady Mary Wortley Montagu in the clog-stocking combination.
Curses, I was going to buy a pair of those blue stockings!
Apparently the word "sabotage" derives from the French for clog, "sabot", on accounta how the disgruntled proletariat would throw their clogs into the machinery. I wonder if the verb "to clog" has a similar etymology.
Three cheers for the peasantry!
Trix, second-wave bluestockings, always.
Happy Birthday to Cistern Harlot form Mother Mouse
and all the rest of us
I don't know about you, but the minute I see a carpet, all I do is lust after the moment that I can iron it. I still can't believe your landlord would dare to come between a tenant and a carpet like that. O, the Cruel Irony of Life!
They just don't understand about romance, the people who write the tenancy agreements. How many a loving young couple has been cleft in twain because the real estate people won't let them iron their carpets when the mood strikes?
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