I have conquered the Socks from Hell. It is not so much that I have subjugated these hand-knitted demons to their knees so much that I have brought them to my feet. Snugly, quietly, they embrace my very soles, and … Continue reading
My mother taught me to knit when I was 15. In her day, she said, a woman knit in between romantic relationships. An especially heart wrenching breakup, followed by months of no dates at all, could result in a complete … Continue reading
I might also add that Ruby the Repulsive Rat Dog exhibits a literal taste for expensive footwear as well, and thanks to her sharp teeth, has reduced my $14.95 find of the century to masticated pulp. Continue reading
Those chauvinist males out there who joke about how long it takes women to dress have never seen one re-attire herself in a panic in the middle of the Mart rat cubicle.
Thank God for that. Continue reading
At the Norwegian Artist’s receptions and opening nights, I appear in something that exists all its own on the planet — no twin at Wal-Mart or Nordstrom’s — what I’m wearing is as unique, unusual, and imperfect as I am. Continue reading
