So, now that the paint has dried, I am going through my clothes and putting things away again. Or at least I am supposed to be. What is actually happening is I've been looking at the massive laundry bag in the living room. It's been looking back at me. Things are spilling out of it, and I know decisions need to be made! I hid it behind the couch. I can deal with it this weekend.
In an ideal world, my wardrobe – wait! my wardrobeS – would contain beautiful vintage dresses, skirts and tops. There would be plenty to chose from, but it couldn't be called full; there would be a luxurious amount space between each matching, oh, maybe white? or padded? hanger. No squashing in here! Little magical rabbits would clean, iron and tidy things – when they weren't cooking me fresh dinners and dragging the hoover about... wait. I am getting off track.
So. Everything always clean and ready to wear... and every night I would hang up a dress ready for the next day on my pigs. This last bit I can do :)
1950s dresses: from all over the world!
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