Again with the cankles. Again with the leggings. In Miami. In the summer. And this dress? I love this dress style. I'm making one for myself even now. And Erin, over at Dress a Day has been obsessing about the Duro for a couple of months now.
But, see, it's supposed to be loose. And flowing. Not tight across the bust and constricting the ribs and giving one an appearance of either A) advanced liver disease or B) advanced pregnancy. And I may possibly be wrong, but I don't think the sleeves are supposed to be medieval in length, either. You know, like only to the wrist, not over them and down to the tips of your fingers.
The things I have to put up with, living in this city... I swear, it makes me yearn for the days of old men wearing bad wigs cruising the beach in their white shoes and shrimp-colored sports coats. At least in those days a person could get a decent pastrami sandwich over in Miami Beach without having to take out a loan on their house.
And while I'm on the subject of "what ever happened to Jewish delis in this town", what ever happened to the bowls of free pickles and cole slaw and the basket of rolls on every table, even before you ordered? Huh? And Jewish bakeries like the late, great, sorely missed and never to be replicated in my lifetime or yours, Pumpernick's? Where the ashtrays had "Nicked from Pumpernick's" printed on them. It was at 63rd and Collins, and I once rode there, on my bicycle, in the dead of night, from the University of Miami for a slice of cheesecake.
But, see, it's supposed to be loose. And flowing. Not tight across the bust and constricting the ribs and giving one an appearance of either A) advanced liver disease or B) advanced pregnancy. And I may possibly be wrong, but I don't think the sleeves are supposed to be medieval in length, either. You know, like only to the wrist, not over them and down to the tips of your fingers.
The things I have to put up with, living in this city... I swear, it makes me yearn for the days of old men wearing bad wigs cruising the beach in their white shoes and shrimp-colored sports coats. At least in those days a person could get a decent pastrami sandwich over in Miami Beach without having to take out a loan on their house.
And while I'm on the subject of "what ever happened to Jewish delis in this town", what ever happened to the bowls of free pickles and cole slaw and the basket of rolls on every table, even before you ordered? Huh? And Jewish bakeries like the late, great, sorely missed and never to be replicated in my lifetime or yours, Pumpernick's? Where the ashtrays had "Nicked from Pumpernick's" printed on them. It was at 63rd and Collins, and I once rode there, on my bicycle, in the dead of night, from the University of Miami for a slice of cheesecake.