Come Back, Little Caftan

 
I may have finally figured out what bit of fashion excites me now (Day 73 of Coronavirus House Arrest). Athleisure—be it comfy sweats or Yogawear—has never been more than utilitarian, not a fashion choice for me. I want to get excited about something, but I can't foresee a time when I may actually be wearing a dress.

Jacqueline Bisset—timeless

What garment holds a bit of mystery, creativity, and comfort all in one? A caftan (or kaftan) was originally an ankle length garment with flowing sleeves worn by men and women in the Middle East. The style is thought to have originated in Ancient Mesopotamia. Kaftan is a Persian word. Similar styles of dress are the djellaba, abaya and burnouse, but in the West, "caftan" is generally used for all.

illustration by Diyali Sen Bhalla

 
Once an exotic souvenir brought back by intrepid 19th century world travelers, the caftan came into its own in the 1950s and '60s when it was adapted by French high fashion. Dior and Balenciaga showed versions as loose-fitting evening gowns or a caftan worn as a robe over matching pants. It became the jet-setter's style-du-jour, popularized by everyone from Talitha Getty to Elizabeth Taylor.

Talitha Getty

Liz—no last name needed

My clothing need of the moment is something to wear around the house while not gardening, cleaning, sorting or cooking. Something that will look as if I meant to put it on if the doorbell rings. I know it's only Amazon, but still, we dress to impress. Something that will play with my love of fashion during this stressful time, something a little "Let's pretend" and a little out of my comfort zone (while being way so comfortable).

It's a nice look to try out/try on. Besides a long kimono that I converted by sewing together the front, I just purchased this caftan from "& Other Stories" (one of the H&M brands). It's a nice mix of linen and cotton, so not too flimsy. It does, however, run huge.

On sale @$49

I'm not sure if I'm about to hit the street in a caftan.

 

My front porch with a cup of coffee might be as far as I dare travel.

Madame Gives a Shout Out...

 
...and a blatant plug, something that is not usually my intent.

Back in early April—you know, 20 months ago—Johnny Was, based in Los Angeles, was among the first to offer masks for sale. A pack of five, constructed from their signature prints, lined in cotton with a pocket for inserting a filter, cost $25. For every pack ordered, a pack would be donated to essential workers.

That to me is a win/win—something I needed from a designer whose lovely Boho tops, dresses and kimonos are a bit too pricey for me and an opportunity to help do good. Wait time was three weeks (now shortened to a week). I actually wondered if we would still need masks by then.

The masks arrived today, and I couldn't be more pleased. They are lovely, all different, all lined in a soft striped cotton. They are nicely pleated and finished. I sew, but I could never have the patience for that kind of detail.

Lined interior

The pocket allows you to insert a filter. I understand paper cone coffee filters work well. A few snips and you have it.

There are now three choices of designs. Cotton sateen prints or cotton sateen in neutral (unisex) prints are 5 masks for $25 or 50 for $250. Silk charmeuse prints are 5 for $40.

Cotton sateen prints

Cotton sateen neutrals

Silk charmeuse prints

For every pack sold Johnny Was will donate a pack to essential workers in hospitals and charities. They have donated over 300,000 masks so far.

I respect the spirit and the manner in which these are being offered. A card enclosed with my masks read in part, "We are grateful that during this unprecedented time, we are coming together stronger than ever and all doing our part to protect one another."

Besides, it was great fun to open the package and see what I got. Imagine my great joy and surprise when one print turned out to be leopard!

To Shop or not to Shop?

Pandemonium at a reopened TJ Maxx

 
This question depends on where you live, what has opened up or is on the verge of doing so.

I recently conducted a straw poll and received as many varied answers as you might imagine. We are presently living in an un-united state.

Target seems to be the store of choice, mainly because all locations have been open during the pandemic. I haven't been myself, but I understand they are at least putting some precautions in place, such as limiting the amount of shoppers inside. It's easy to grab-and-go at Target, to pick up no-brainers like t-shirts. Many don't mind trying on at home and returning.

There are those who would love to just poke around a store to see what's new, but that's mostly a pipe dream. I understand as my week always included a run through the neighborhood TJ Maxx and Marshall's, places where inventory can change daily. That risk doesn't seem worth taking.

Those were the days...

 
One respondent said she would feel more comfortable in a boutique, just not in a mall. That behooves boutiques, usually small-staffed, to take on extra precautions of cleaning and maintenance. This, I think, will be necessary for the sake of attracting business and appealing to customers who may trust such an atmosphere over the big stores.

I read a newspaper article where Macy's stated they will effectively set up a 48-hour quarrantine for clothing tried on in fitting rooms. If my local Macy's is any indication, "Apparel Jail" will not look any different from the massive pile-up of go-backs one usually encountered outside the fitting rooms. You know, the kind of stack you wouldn't want to touch with a ten-foot pole, let alone a six-foot.   

One answer from hard-hit New York City had a plaintive "if only". New York is wisely still locked down. Stay strong, New Yorkers. It's also tough to stay strong here in Texas where things seem to be opening up like a house of cards in the wind. It's hard to "do the right thing" when so many around you have other ideas.

Shopping online for the forseeable future is getting some takers. If you think about it the dangers are still there. Someone may have tried that on anyways. The person who packed your delivery may not have been wearing a mask or gloves or may even have, heaven forbid, sneezed into your button-down. Out of sight, out of mind I guess. Besides, does anyone really know how long these virus germs last?

Then there are thrift stores, from tony consignment shops to rummage sales. Who's up for those? At this point, when we have so much, sometimes thrifting is a justifiable form of shopping for entertainment. From "something to think about" to "I would wash it anyways", reactions are mixed. I am pretty sure if it were me there would be gloves.

One light bulb has gone off in many closets: I don't need anything; I have more than I need already; I have things I've never worn; where am I going anyways?

Which reminds me, if you haven't seen it, Turner Classic Movies is showing a delightful romantic comedy from 1945 starring Wendy Hiller as a headstrong young woman with some surprises coming to her, "I Know Where I'm Going". It airs Tuesday, May 26 at 12:15 AM Eastern. I'll be there.

 

Life Along the Amazon During a Pandemic

I'm not meaning life along the Amazon River here. We are talking about life along the Amazon delivery truck route, and let me tell you its been a life saver.

Perhaps I should rephrase that. Staying sequestered, venturing out gingerly and carefully, may be saving my life. Amazon has done wonders for my sanity.

Nowadays the mail can't be expected to hold any surprises. The bills are paid automatically from my checking account. Magazines are getting delivered with the newspaper. No one writes anymore, not even a greeting card. I'm as guilty as anyone, and it can't be blamed on the pandemic.

The sight of that Amazon truck? Since mid-March I have ordered so much online it's a rare day I don't get a delivery of something. What have I been buying? Well, it's not just sheer laziness or even fear keeping me from the store.

We got a new kitten right before lock-down. Sidney requires canned kitten food. My local supermarket doesn't really stock those little tins of tasty tidbits. Where once I would not have minded the chore, I'm not about to run all over town even for Sidney. Amazon delivers.

Who's wearing much makeup? I'm not. But I do feel more human with lipstick. I'm pretty good with a lipstick brush and a deep coral color, but for now it's a swipe of a color so pale using a brush would be a waste of effort. While it's still creamy, this tube is so old no one stocks it anymore. I found one (yes one) on Amazon, and I'm not too embarrassed to order one tube of lipstick.

Books! The library is still closed. I have 496 unread books in my house, but when someone tells me about a great book they've read, well, you know what has to happen. I love getting books from Amazon because they come practically the next day.

Finally found my favorite faux-Birkenstocks in white plastic. I was looking for those all last summer as the perfect pool shoe. They turned up on Amazon. All I need now is the pool.

And so it goes. I've stocked up on vinyl gloves. The box I bought six weeks ago for $9.99 now sells for $24.99, but at least its available.

If we're in this for the long haul disposable masks just seem cleaner than scarves and bandanas. I don't think I'm going to bother matching my masks to my outfits—or even to my face. Amazon has them.

 
I wish I hadn't heard troubling news that Amazon isn't supplying their workers with protective gear. I understand the company is now investing in that, to the point where Jeff Bezos warned stockholders not to expect a profit this year despite how much Amazon seems to be raking in. He personally donated $100 million to food banks around the country. I hope this is just the beginning.

I'm still not a fan of online fashion shopping in general. I bought a shirt from Banana Republic Factory Store in two sizes, but neither fit. Shipping was not free, either, but I sent them back, only to receive my bill with no credit for the return. When I called customer service I was told that instead of the usual 15 days to process returns, the company can now take 30. Meanwhile I should pay my bill or face a fine. Fortunately I was able to convince the rep leaving me with a credit on a Banana Republic card was not acceptable. It's the hassle that continues to sour me on most online shopping. Say what you will about the behemoth, Amazon is hassle-free.

First responders, doctors, nurses, grocery store workers, scientists looking for cures and vaccines? You have my undying gratitude. Amazon? I gotta say you have my thanks.

Broken Promises/Happy Endings

  
Sometimes it pays to disappoint yourself, especially this year.

Every January I make the same promise I make in July: Don't buy anything for next season until that next season arrives. This is a promise I can never keep.

The stores start hauling out spring and summer clothes while the winter sale signs are still wet. I love me a good sale, but I CAN NOT resist the shiny and new.

It's easy to forget what you actually own when it's packed away for a winter nap, so I'm often replenishing what doesn't need to be replenished. I will also imagine events that never occur—patio parties where I swan about in a silk caftan passing out hors d'oeuvres and cocktails to my neighbors. I don't even know the neighbors. I envision romantic evenings in a flowy summer dress on a cruise ship in tropic waters, strolling the decks with my husband apres dinner. What's wrong with this picture? I hate cruises and get seasick besides. Nevertheless the fantasies persist, and I can end up in October with outfits still hanging in the closet, tags attached.

I've gotten better over time but am not 100% pre-season impulse-free. This year, when stepping inside the mall or a department store seems a far-fetched idea, I'm happy I broke my promise. What that means is I start the season with new clothes I WILL wear, mainly because they are new. I bought some striped Breton sailor tees, black pants with white daisies, wide-leg linen pants in a terra cotta color, a black knit blazer cut like a riding jacket, that flowy summer dress for my husband's birthday dinner (which will still happen just not aboard ship), a black straw bag of shredded raffia, a pair of tooled leather mules and a pair of black slip-on sneakers with white treads.

You might think this is enough to satisfy a woman's summer wardrobe in its entirety. But you don't know me. Before this all happened, I shopped, like a shark swims, constantly. I enjoyed the hunt while always looking for "a good price".

I've learned a lot, even in six weeks. I've learned how little I need and how much I have. I've learned to do other things with my time, like cooking real recipes instead of throwing dinner together. My garden has never looked better. I'm reading more. I can't find an excuse to avoid cleaning house, but I'm working on that.

As retail slowly opens up here, I wonder how things will change. I'm old enough to need to proceed cautiously, but I do feel I won't go back to my meandering ways. The new normal doesn't seem able to support that idea anyways.

I will tell you one thing: I'm happy to have something new to wear when I can be let out!

Coming to a Summer Near You? Socks with Sandals

 
With most of us missing months of pedicure appointments, I wonder if the new trend this summer will be socks and sandals.

This has been touted before, many times, and has never caught on. It has either cried "trying too hard" or looked too 1940s. Many trends have no reason for being, of course, but wearing socks with your sandals now Fulfills a Need.

Miami, 1940

Lest you think I am just a prima donna and can't do my own toes, I really can't. They are so gnarly that, well, let me spare you the details. For years I would never even wear sandals until a wonderful nails person assured me she had seen it all and not to worry. So, yes, I get pedicures. And can now wear sandals.

The always-stylish Eva Chen

But now is then, if you know what I mean. It's finally sandal weather in Texas. Okay, it's always sandal weather even when it isn't. Texas women will put on a winter coat before they change out of sandals. It's not necessary to ask forgiveness these days. It's more a case of self-pride. Even I don't want to look at my unkempt toenails.

Maybe...

Maybe not

Of course, these might be a new trend altogether...

How Chic is Your Mask?

I never thought I would be seeing this, let alone writing about it, but I noticed two women in the supermarket today who looked so fabulous in their social-distancing masks, I had to stop and tell them (from a safe distance of course).

Me, I was wearing my bandana-and-a-rubber-band mask, baseball cap and no makeup. Who could tell who I possibly WAS? (one benefit of all this cover-up-ing). I felt emboldened to compliment them, as one so often does become more chatty when in disguise.

I didn't get up the nerve to ask for a photograph, but one was wearing a pink-and-white gingham mask with strips of white appliqued flowers along the side pieces. She had a black pixie haircut and bold, black eyeglass frames helping to keep the mask in place. I didn't notice what else she was wearing because she looked so cute from the neck up.

The second woman, a statuesque African-American, had on a sweeping caftan dress in one long swath of mustardy-olive. Her hair was pulled back; the mask was a deep-colored African print (which she said she made herself), and she was wearing one killer pair of false eyelashes.

Whatever glorious pictures you have in your head, keep them there. These women looked—dare I say—stunning and appropriate. And who looked like Glamour Dont's? The few women not wearing masks.

Is there some new chic afoot? Will it no longer be okay to just wear a mask? Will the well-dressed woman get points for coordinating her look with her outfit? This will either give me a new push to get creative or another reason never to leave my house.

Tone Deaf During Covid 19?

 
Any place I've ever bought anything from is sending me emails, lots and lots of emails. I've learned to ignore those missals from Banana Republic, Old Navy, the Gap, Carter's, Ann Taylor, J Crew, DSW, H&M, J Jill, etc., but now they are beginning to feel wrong.

I've not Unsubscribed because eventually I will want to know what's happening out there. I don't bother to open them; I just delete from the inbox. I can't help seeing that first line as I do. Over time those emails are feeling more tone deaf and more desperate.

"Comfy clothes for this special time!" I don't need any more comfy clothes, thank you. I especially don't need them without a pay check coming in. I don't need a "wardrobe refresh" or a "personal online shopper".

I've also received a few tailored to me by local store managers. I will refrain from mentioning which stores to save them any embarrassment, but I do NOT want a video consultation or a curbside pickup to get new clothes. Do you not understand?

I am not going anywhere. I am not doing anything except trying to stay healthy. I know you are feeling desperate. I work in retail and, I don't have a job anymore. I have zero confidence that I will ever have one again. Now is not the time to buy what can't be consumed, read, listened to, played, or wiped with.

I understand your plight. Clothes are a need or a pleasure in our lives. Fashion has always been the stuff of angels' wings. I feel your pain (do I ever!), but I don't want to see you sweat. Leave me my illusions (which means being very, very quiet) or treat me like a good friend.

Tell me you understand how we are all feeling. Let me know you want me to be safe and healthy and that you look forward to seeing me again soon. Send me a sweet thought but not a 60% discount coupon. I'll still be your friend. 

Who Cut Out the Dress?

 
Will "Making the Cut" make the cut? "Project Runway" was a trailblazer when it debuted on Bravo in 2004. There have been many "seasons" and many iterations, most recently with Karli Kloss and Christian Siriano as host and mentor respectively.

Yesterday the originals, Heidi Klum and Tim Gunn, debuted "Making the Cut" on Amazon Prime, a glammed-up version of the original with a million dollar prize and 12 contestants who have established lines but want Worldwide Brand Recognition.

It all seems a bit desperate, with Heidi barely able to contain herself at the thought of that million and Tim having apoplexy over being in Paris (and using the word titillating in not exactly the right way). The big get is the viewer's ability to purchase the winning designer's look immediately after the show.

This was tried once before on one of the other "Runways" with not much success. The winning look was able to be ordered right after the show, with a wait time of 6-8 weeks for delivery. In other words, "slow fashion." No one wants to wait two months for anything unless it's your wedding gown, so it was no surprise that disappeared early on in the run of the season.

Back to "Making the Cut". The designers were challenged to create two looks for a fashion show—a runway, or extreme, version of their style and an aspirational, or saleable, one. The presentation was staged at night at the Eiffel Tower. That was such a small part of the episode you barely had a chance to look at the clothes.

Instead of judges examining their favorites and least favorites (so at least we could see them again), Heidi separately called four contestants to the judge's table to be grilled by her and have their fates decided by the panel. "Did you change your minds?", she asked the judges after her inquisition. Everyone always said "no". I'm surprised they didn't use the old gladiatorial thumbs-up, thumbs-down. One designer was sent home, one given a warning, one praised for her good work, one  crowned the winner (but no laurel leaves).

The winner, Esther Perbandt from Germany, found the seamstress hadn't put her dress together correctly. That's another thing; designers don't actually sew because most of them use pattern makers and seamstresses in their businesses (yet another reason to unleash a horde of completely untrained fashion designers onto the world). She was forced to create a new dress in the two hours left, and this was the winner.

Actually it's a nice dress. I could see this going to a party or out to a special dinner. It looks a bit Grecian or Empire, flattering and dramatic. I was curious enough to go on the Amazon website, where I understood it would be available immediately.

 
I could see if I were watching a few days or weeks following the program's debut. It wasn't even midnight, and Amazon's site told me this:

 
What was the point? Did they not anticipate the volume of orders (which I kind of doubt there were)? Did they run into a coronavirus problem importing from China? Possible. There was no price listed, but a bit of further investigation revealed it was $64.90. I've had enough bad luck ordering from those Chinese fashion sites to imagine the quality of the fabric/how well this is made for that price. I also wonder if any designer hoping to become the next global brand was thinking "Forever 21" rather than "Armani."

So I'm on the fence about this version. Or maybe the clothesline—hanging on, but I don't know for how long.

Men We Love: Christian Siriano

 
You don't need a reason to love Christian Siriano. He's been nothing but a class act since his debut as a contestant on "Project Runway" in 2008.

My first thoughts were, Who does this pipsqueak think he is? Chistian had attitude and at 5'4" and probably 110 pounds soaking wet he sure needed to put his talent where his confidence was. Well, he did, and became the youngest Project Runway winner with his beautiful, imaginative creations.

But could he make it as a real fashion designer? Not surprisingly his first forays into commercial design were for mass market retailers, such as a line of shoes and handbags for the late, lamented Payless. But he debuted his own line late in 2008, sold at Saks Fifth Avenue and Neimans as well as a private couture line. He's every bit an established designer today—successful and respected, a member of the CFDA, a published author and basically king of all that he surveys. And in a sweet case of turnabout, he was the mentor of this year's Project Runway reboot, replacing his own mentor, Tim Gunn.

Throughout he has been funny and confident, kind and helpful, living up to one of his favorite catchwords, fierce. All that would be fine and good enough, except Christian has done a few things that make him really special.

Christian and Leslie in the studio

One that comes to mind is his request to dress Leslie Jones for the premiere of her movie "Ghostbusters." He heard no one she asked would make her a red carpet gown. That might have seemed like a tempest in a teapot but brought to light what women face who are not an "acceptable" size in the big business of dress-up.

When asked why he wanted to do it Christian said, "We should just try to make every woman feel great about themselves, because there’s enough crazy hate going on in the world." The dress was gorgeous, and he and Leslie have forged a friendship that continues to spread his philosophy.

Leslie's Siriano gown

 
Okay, so Christian Siriano is a mench. He lives up to his own hype and seems genuinely caring. But what has he done lately? Well, this. When he found out New York City was perilously low on the supply of masks, he tweeted,  "If @NYGovCuomo says we need masks my team will help make some. I have a full sewing team still on staff working from home that can help."

And that's what he's been doing, sewing 500 a day both in his studio (with social distancing) and by workers at home. They are simple and follow mask guidelines, washable, no funky fabric designs or Christian Siriano logos. He is doing good not only for NYC, but he's keeping his staff employed.

A stitch in time. Thank you, Christian Siriano.

Will We Ever Want to Shop Again?

 
The reason for this blog's beginnings in 2011 and my writing today is the same. Then I was confined to the house while recovering from bunion surgery. I challenged myself to publish something every day till I could fly the coop and rejoin the world.

Eight years later my reason is once again a challenge to keep occupied while waiting for that day when life will be normal. Date TBD, that life TBD.

There's a problem. 643 posts later what more can I possibly say about fashion? You've read my life story from playing with paper dolls to working for magazines. You've seen my dispatches on the business of fashion, quirky discoveries about styles and practices, musings on the latest trends.

What more is there to say, especially when the last thing I'm thinking about is what to wear?

Pajamas as street wear is one thing. Pajamas as all-day wear is something else. I don't want to start down that slippery slope. (short break while I get dressed)

Will we ever shop again? My first thought, as I stayed home and saw mine and other retail businesses close their literal doors for the duration, was "everyone will shop online". That could be a further blow to those doors reopening again.

Now, aside from needing something (t-shirts, socks, underwear, pajamas), what do I want to shop for?  Where am I going? What do I have to look forward to—that is, what can I count on happening on a certain date? I have, in other words, lost my appetite for Fashion as an important part of everyday life. It's kind of like losing a friend if not an actual body part.

At the moment we are in a coronavirusworld without end. I appreciate that not every writer is flailing about like me or even attempting to see the bright side to our new and hopefully temporary reality. Sometimes a little breathing space is a good thing. In order to breathe.

Our lives may have changed overnight. We may have much more important things to stress about at the moment than high-water or lo-rise, but we are still female and still ourselves. 

Madame has made many predictions in the past. I've usually tossed them off without much thought to their becoming true. This time it's a prediction and a fervent wish: We will shop again.  



 

Stuff to Do During House Arrest #1

 
There are more fashion-related activities to keep you occupied during house arrested besides closet cleaning and mending. More fun things for sure.

I just read a piece on "100 things to do while stuck inside during a pandemic" in USA Today. You can copy and paste here: 

https://www.yahoo.com/news/100-things-while-stuck-inside-110017710.html

Number one is "Complete a puzzle! The more pieces the better!" I haven't done a jigsaw puzzle in 20 years, but I always add at least a piece to the one laid out on top of a case at the library. Actually the more dense and complicated a puzzle is, the easier it is to put together. There is nothing worse in puzzledom than a jigsaw with lots of blue sky.

So for your puzzle (and fashion) pleasure, let me present The Clothing Emporium by the Vermont Christmas Company:

That looks like the store of my dreams or the closet of my nightmare, but it sure looks like fun. It's 550 pieces and measures 24" x 18" when completed. Available on Amazon for $14.95.

I asked my husband if he'd like to do a puzzle. He said yes, but it's going to be this one:

I know, I know. Too much blue sky.

What to Wear During House Arrest

 
For the next two to three weeks, under the advice of our doctor, my husband and I will be under house arrest, sitting out the coronavirus until it's not so scary. At 79 and 77 respectively, we are willing to own up to "old", just not "elderly". We still work, travel, play and generally enjoy life without thinking too much about our health. That the CDC considers 65 "old" was a wake-up call.

I look forward to house arrest with more than a little trepidation. I'm still not sure whether we are being overly cautious. Remember the story of Chicken Little who thought the sky was falling? On the other hand, being a little chicken now might not be a bad idea.

We plan to cut out anything that involves other people, which means a lot of things we enjoy doing—restaurants, movies, theater, museums, shopping (that's only my pleasure), seeing the kids and work. We will make only the quickest trips to the grocery store and any other appointments that can't be put off. All this togetherness will be a true test of our marriage. We will try not to kill each other.

But what to wear? To avoid that slippery slope—from casual to can't care less—I will have to get dressed. With makeup. Every day. I admit to spending long mornings in pjs when I have a day off and my husband doesn't. Since every day will now be a day off, I'd better be more like my mother—breakfast in pjs (though she always wore a pretty robe) then get dressed for the day. Note to self: As soon as I can get to a store, look for a pretty robe. Better yet, find one on Amazon.

Maybe matching robes...?

When I'm spending the day cleaning—a chore I hate until it's done, and then I'm ridiculously proud of myself—I wear the oldest, saddest articles of clothing I own. I don't even give them the respect of hanging in a closet. I somewhat fold them and toss 'em into a covered basket in the bedroom. They are so disgusting if I ever did get rid of them I wouldn't have the nerve to drop them at the thrift shop. This cannot be my house arrest wardrobe. I am going to have to wear real clothes.

NOT my house cleaning outfit...or attitude

The temptation when no one sees you is to reach for the same outfit day after day till it can practically walk itself to the laundry basket. I once bought a rainbow striped knit top to keep up my spirits after I lost a job. I did wear it for a while, until I realized it did nothing but remind me of my sorry state. So a house arrest outfit might be too much orange-is-the-new-black.

I think all of us have clothes we don't wear for no other reason than they seem too good for the house but not good enough to wear out. At least I do. Now's the time to put on those nice shirts or t's and fun pants.

I take out my pierced earrings at night and don't put them back in until I'm ready to leave home. Empty ear piercings is one of Rachel Zoe's pet peeves from her style book. I will put earrings in even though going nowhere.

Though not exactly what-to-wear, wouldn't it be great to finally catch up on all that mending—hems and buttons that need work? And what a perfect opportunity to switch closets for the season (am writing this from south Texas), a chore that can take weeks when I'm busy going places and doing things.

Thus has it ever been...

And when I'm done with my closet, I'll start on my husband's. Now that's when the murder plots may hatch...