Wednesday, December 9, 2009

What I gave myself for my upcoming birthday...

courtesy of my loving mother, who is in Hawaii and so sent me cash before her departure to buy something nice for myself.

Silk stockings.

I've never owned a pair. Never made that splurge -- or investment, depending upon how one views it -- before. Not even when I could buy them in Paris and save the shipping. But the company in England I order my seamed nylons from was running a Christmas sale, and there was no VAT added, and, well...

They're made by Cervin, on the same looms they were using in the 1920's. They're the only company left in the world, supposedly, that does so. I ordered the white lady skin color daytime shade, not the sultry off-black you'd want for evening. They arrived today.

And, oh! Dear readers, they are exquisite. Sheer poetry embodied in ephemeral material. And, enclosed in the lovely packaging was a note from their manufacturer in French that went something like this: "My silkworms have made the silk for you. My looms have woven them into the finest stockings in the world, made in France as they have been for a hundred years. I believe that every woman in the world deserves to wear a pair of my silk stockings once in her lifetime."

I put them on, and suddenly I understand why women's legs photograph the way they do in the 1920's. Silk stockings have a sheen, they give off a glow that is nothing like nylons, even vintage ones. They are very, very stretchy. Although sized to one's legs and feet, immediately I see the little lines and sags of the exquisite, supple veil of silk. And my legs look exactly like Zelda Fitzgerald's and Norma Shearer's and Lilian Gish's in the mirror.

Paradise. I just want to go take a hot bath, shave my legs, put the stockings back on and rub my legs together under the bedsheets all night. They are like a veil of honey. They are so soft. And now I understand how flappers rolled their stockings down -- something I never had a true, kinetic feel for before, even with vintage nylons. I have insight into Fitzgerald's characters and into silent movies I never had until just now.

So, thank you, Mother, for the most exquisite, evocative, time-transporting birthday gift you ever gave me in my over half-century of living! I love them.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Weather is still miserable.

But I went and got a long, luxurious pedicure, manicure (red Christmas nails!) and massage to pamper my poor performance-wrecked body. If you know my performance identity, a few photos up on my professional sites.

And I just had to go out, brave the weather and buy a pair of sensible, weather appropriate shoes. All my boots are suede or metallic or some other impractical material, or else they have 4" heels for performing. Just got some adorable black patent leather spectator oxfords on a gum sole -- kind of like Doc Marten wingtips, only shiny. They should keep me up out of the puddles, I think. And I can wear them with tights and skirts. And I can wear them when I want to do my Marlene Dietrich drag clothes at work.

Yikes! My birthday is in a few days!

And I have to brave the weather for two dance classes this week, now that I've also started up tango. But I'm guessing there's some kind of two week hiatus planned between Christmas and New Year's?

Sunday, December 6, 2009