Jeggings?

I haven't really been out shopping for clothes since October, but I still try to keep an eye out for what's in fashion, for the time when I can get out again. This morning my inbox was full of sales fliers for various shops, and they were all hawking the latest wonder, a garment called "jeggings". Depending on which description one prefers, these are either leggings that are fashioned to resemble jeans, or jeans which have been made out of lycra-blend material like leggings. I like leggings, and I love jeans (the tighter the better!), but I wonder if these new things aren't like a rock star get-up from the Eighties. All of the layouts I've seen them in pair them with tunics or long coats and high heels, both of which I already like, and the combination emphasizes my legs, which are still one of my best features.

Via my email, I see these are available at Dots (not around here) and Torrid (not here either), but also available through Newport News. I came downstairs just before leaving for work, and my niece was wearing a pair. She raved about them, and said I should go for it, but she's sixteen, and what's cool for kids like her may not fly on a thirtysomething like me.

Another thing that bugs me is the name. I'm not unused to contractions and combined words, but the rough compression of the "j" sound up against those hard "g's" sticks in my mouth. It does not roll trippingly off the tongue. That's just a minor nitpick, though.

Dare I to try them?

Changes Afoot

Why, yes, I have been listening to a lot of U2 lately. I guess it's good I didn't decide to quote from "Running to Stand Still" or any of their equally glum material.

EDIT: It occurs to me that I posted this under the assumption that anyone clicking over here would automatically notice that I changed the box in the upper right from "About Me" to "About this blog" and changed the wording. A lot. With nary an explanation.

Dog Days Again (Because I Can)

I probably should have included the video in that previous post for lazy folk, but I was at work when I originally wrote it, and I'm still testing the limits of their internet permissions. Anyway, here's Florence in all her glory:

Hooray for Spam Filtering!

Has anyone else noticed the changes Blogger have made to Comments? Just recently they've added a filter of some sort that dumps any comment that might be junk into a Spam folder. I wasn't praying, but it seems someone was listening anyway.

Dog Days

This is my obligatory post to let everyone know I'm still kicking. I try to only write when I have something to say, but after some of the last posts, I feel compelled to keep people abreast of my ongoing struggle. The urges to play in traffic or test the sharpness of various objects is much-diminished, but I hesitate to say that I'm happy just yet.

It's funny. A couple of weeks ago, I discovered a new song (new to me, anyway). The song is called "Dog Days Are Over", and it's by a little British art rock outfit called Florence and the Machine. I first heard it in promos for the USA series "Covert Affairs", and it's since popped up in the trailers for "Eat, Pray, Love". I first heard a snippet in a promo, then I watched the video on YouTube, and a few minutes later downloaded the song from Amazon. It's catchy, and the video is energetically exuberant, with wild costumes and eye-popping colors (as far as those costumes go, I think Florence could give Lady Gaga a run for her money). I wish I knew a way to carry that happiness around with me, without listening to the song all the time.

It's now been six months and a couple of weeks since the last time I went out of doors en femme. That's the longest I've been since I came out again in 2005. I don't define myself as a crossdresser, so I it's not like I need to dress up like a woman all the time, but not presenting myself in public the way I prefer is wearing on me I know, I know; technically I'm crossdressing all the time, not owning more than a stitch or two of male clothing, but not wearing makeup, or hair, or some of my pretty tops and shoes is killing me. I need to find a place and time to get out as myself, or as my perception of myself, and I'd rather it not be the dance bar full of college students that Ms. Self-Medicating told me about. I've checked out their photos on Facebook, and that is SO not my scene.