Due to the fact that one of my two pairs of nice work jeans got a hole in the knee, I was forced prematurely back into dresses again, not a pretty sight, since I'd sort of--you know, repressed them.
This dress, though.
I mean, let's say you were looking for something in conservative Christian BDSM wear. This is it. It *looks* okay, high neck, long skirt, sleeveless, fitted, but with a cute little cardigan with it. Innocent spring-i-ness. But your posture slips, that sucker has, apparently, razor-edged armholes, cause trust me, if I didn't keep my back straight and shoulders back, I *felt* it. It was perfect as long as it looked like I'd stuck a broomstick up my ass. I now have bruised places right at the front of my underarms. This? Not pretty.
Hmm. Yeah. See, the problem is, my vanity took over before I could really consider that, wow, an entire day unable to get my feet very far apart and standing like a boot camp subject wouldn't be as fun as--ooh, my ass looks smaller in this! And the skirt is so cute!
You see why I ended up wearing it anyway.
I'm trying to drive out the demons of Lex mpreg that svmadelyn and thecaelum planted. Post rift. Kind of like a PSA of why you don't have torrid affairs with your nemeises. Cause whoo-boy, who sees that coming?
Yep. I'm feeling the insomnia.