Why does any designer think us women want to have one arm covered with eighty style sleeves and one arm naked. Obviously the designer thinks he understands what women want, but he is very mistaken, both in the decade and the desire.  

We all know now about the greed of the 1% and these are the only people who could afford this designer outfit.

But ... the designer must think he should not flaunt his fashion, but rather design something that anyone might put together from a thrift shop, without taking up the hem of the pants first so the fashionista can actually walk without tripping. This is very important I can assure you, having recently broken my ankle very badly by tripping down a tiny stair. The hairy handbag is a fine gesture, and adds to the mishmash. The turquoise sandals remind me of Aunt Fanny and her bunions.  And the sun hat could be considered essential if wearing this in California, so the wearer does not develop brown sun spots. Please note the draping, reminiscent of Aunt Fanny's bedroom curtains. In fact I think this designer is channeling Aunt Fanny for this thrifty looking, but surely expensive outfit. 

Welcome to my blog.

This picture says a lot about me.

I have bird hand-made-by-me wallpaper in the background. I love birds.

I am wearing a brightly patterned scarf together with a a striped jacket. I love pattern, especially when it's mixed with other pattern. I am not a minimalist despite once trying to be so. I could only be  a minimalist if I was born in Japan.  

Behind me is a painting I made many years ago. Also a snippet of my bedhead, which is made from a broken down Chinese Wedding bed, I once actually slept in, until I decided stretching was more important than feeling enclosed. The bed was like a little room I had to step into. I placed the parts of the bed all over my abode and they look lovely as pieces.

I love Chinese and Japanese artifacts.

I also love dogs and cats.

Today I have to put down my beloved dog Stevie, whose kidneys have packed up. He is lying beside me and drowsy, which he was even when he was well. He also has a bad heart. He will be 14 on June 22, so I think he's had a good long life. He was adopted when he was one and a half. I have been intermittently crying and getting ready for the big cry when the vet arrives to do the deed in-house.

I will still have Sylvia, my miniature poodle, who everyone adores. Her size and prettiness have proved to me that people go for pretty things, rather than substance. Not that she has no substance. She is the smartest dog I've ever had and once belonged to my daughter. She adopted me after she came to stay whilst my daughter was away. She wanted to stay as she didn't like the new dogs my daughter brought into her home. One was a pit bull daschound mix and obnoxious. The other was a great dane, both adopted.

I have a cat. Also adopted two years ago as I had an influx of rats in my abode.  She has six toes, which I thought auspicious. Dogs and cats make a house a home if you can have them. LA does not like dogs and cats. It's not a pet welcoming city.

If you've read this far, a very warm welcome. 

It seems my brilliant blogs are not being blogged. I am thus posting a particularly pretty and inoffensive picture to see if it appears on my FB or garners any comments. 
​