Your comments were so lovely yesterday, thank you. So much for my 'give-away'. It looks like the consensus is: those of you with hour glass figures shall search for something similar, but some are saying to hold onto mine anyway. Meanwhile I've given up the search (temporarily) for my original dress, but have found a rather dark photo, shot on my ex (David's) 50,000 acre ranch in New Mexico. David's family are Texan millionaires and he's a nice guy who has since also become good friends with Mr. Dot. They stayed at our little London home (which is still so not done up the way we'd like) with his then girlfriend, who got very ill. We have no curtains in the living room, so hung up old Welsh plaid blankets with moth holes in it, and the place became dark and covered with bottles of medicine and crumpled, used tissues. They were meant to stay a few days and stayed a week instead, while she convalesced. Mr. Dot called it the Crack Den.
Packing to go, I've got so many lovely, CURRENT, shots to show you but will only do so if I have time, as I've got to leave for the airport in a few hours and Mr. Dot is still across town, battling Citibank (we're not as keen on them: he was on the phone with India all day yesterday, they still haven't sorted it out - we still can't get to any of our money - and he thought he'd show up at the nearest branch on Hanover Square first thing, but sod's law, they don't open til 10 on Wednesdays. Of COURSE THEY DON'T!!)
Oh and he had walked there - an hour each direction - and I said well just take the tube home. Asked if he brought his travel card, he did, but it needs topping up AND WE HAVE NO MONEY. You couldn't make this shit up.
So he's there, I"m here, trying to pack as little as possible. I've got a huge pile which I'm now attempting to edit down, and look pretty much like in this shot except I'm wearing Mr. Dot's white tee and undies, kneeling on the floor with stuff scattered round on the carpet (and NO, I'm not taking a self portrait). The white dress, like the cat, will be staying behind. And I might, too, if we don't get this sorted out!
(p.s. 1234th follower: that will never happen again. I love that stuff.) And while 'embedding is disabled by request', you've GOTTA click here and see Chantal Kreviazuk's version of Leaving on a Jet Plane.