Hey there. Our usual Fashion Friday post won’t be coming this week — so sorry! — because I’m busy with writing conference stuff. I’ll get back to posting as usual in October. Until then, it might take me a little longer than usual to reply to comments. Thanks for sticking with me.
And if you’re going to be at Writer’s Digest Conference West this year, let me know!
Today was the homecoming pep rally, and we were all encouraged to wear our school’s colors, one of which is purple.
These are the Iron Fist brand American Nightmare shoes, but I like to call them my zombie stompers. They have a shoe like this called Zombie Stomper as well, but I don’t care for its neon color palette. So there.
These shoes have four-inch heels, and they make me almost as tall as some of my students. Win.
I especially like the little bows on the backs and the criss-cross lacing up the heels. And the poetry fragments on the inside don’t hurt.
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This month, the 13th falls on a Friday, and so I’m intersecting Fashion Friday with the Rêveurs Revelation Fashion Project.
I love fascinators. They’re cute and interesting, and featuring them this week allows me to continue my month-long pursuit of slightly-less-than-typical accessories. I have a few fascinators myself, but nothing quite as fabulous and fancy as this one, here:
You know what comes up when you do a Google search for images of fascinators? Lots of picture of Kate Middleton.
Double win. 🙂
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I originally wrote this poem as a sonnet when I was in college, meditating on the theme of love presumed to be inherent in the sonnet form. I thought, love takes many forms, and so. This updated version of the poem appears in my book The Sharp Edges of Water, published by Odeon Press in 2018.
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Lullaby for a Crying Child
When my cousin died, olive skin and thick
. black hair and twelve years old laid under
. dirt and roses, I found out death’s simple
trick: it’s no one-way gate, but a long silk
. skirt in the rain. I peel the silk from my
. skin, hang it dripping in the bathroom.
My cousin defies death’s veil, ages beyond his
. allotted years, finds me in a dream, touches
. my hands. I look at him, through him, and
wake to rain. Left but not alone. My skirt
. dripping on the tile.
You can order a copy of The Sharp Edges of Water here or at just about any bookstore or online bookseller.
With a full-time job teaching high school and two children advancing through elementary school at an alarming rate — particularly a daughter whose behavior has led me to believe Eight is the new Thirteen — I think a lot about peer pressure and what’s happening to our kids socially. (That’s a topic for an entire blog, and I’m not about to attempt it in a single Fashion Friday post.) One thing that I try to do, to help the kids in my life see it’s good not to follow the herd all the time, is to be as Continue reading “Fashion Friday 9/6/13”
Sappho's Torque 