Strange Dress Indeed

Another not-quite-black dress. This one is Bulgarian-made for a company called Apanage. (I don't know why the fact that it's Bulgarian-made amuses me so much.) Grey is much closer to black than the blue tunic I bought on the same day, so I guess it has that going for it. And like the blue tunic it's pyjama-day comfy.  Besides, it was a very thrifty find. Six dollars at Too Good to be Threw.  

It does have a couple of weird features. There's a shiny silver snap right at cleavage level. It won't stay hidden no matter how I drape the fabric at the neckline.  I know it's a tiny thing, but my cleavage doesn't need any help attracting attention. 

I'm also having issues with the cummerbund/sash/obi thing at the waist. It is firmly attached at both sides. That wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't finished so strangely in the back. 

I've tried folding the sash at the back, but that's one substantial seam. It doesn't hide well. That, and it doesn't stay put when I've folded it. I'm constantly adjusting the sash throughout the day.  My current solution is to cover it with a cardigan. It works. Sort of. I think it makes me look a bit schoolmarmy, and those days are so over for me. 

I suppose I could screw up my courage and remove the sash. And while I was at it I could adjust that very visible snap. I'm just not sure if my sewing skills are up to it. Not a big deal for a six dollar dress, but I made the mistake of googling "Apanage". I was hoping to find the correct way to "style" the sash. Instead I discovered what dresses from this company can go for. They seem to run about  £150. Gulp. I wonder how a likely expensive, Bulgarian-made dress from a German company ended up on the rack at the local thrift shop? 

Linking up with Patti and the conspicuous crew over at Not Dead Yet Style for Visible Monday. Hope you'll head over to check out the fun!

There's a Scarf in My Vacuum, Dear Liza, Dear Liza...

I do not like housecleaning. Things never stay clean for any length of time. Floors that were spotless moments before seem to sprout dust bunnies while my back is turned. I think the small dust bunnies that have been cowering under my furniture feel safe to come out once the monstrous, frightening dust bunnies have been removed. That's my theory anyway.

Then there's the whole one-task-leading-to-infinite-tasks issue. There are times when I feel like poor Henry with his leaky bucket. Today was one of those days. 

I set out to vacuum the stairs. Before I even plugged in the vacuum,  I noticed that there were several jackets hanging in the hall that could go in the closet. Of course, there were some items in the closet that needed re-arranging before I could put the jackets away. Once that was done, and the jackets were safely stowed, I plugged in the vacuum to start on the stairs. As I approached the first step, I saw that the door mat needed cleaning, so I stopped to deal with that. The mail arrived while I was running the vacuum over the mat, so I stepped out to collect it. Since I was outside anyway, I grabbed a broom and swept up to avoid tracking grit in on the just-vacuumed mat. Then I vacuumed the stairs.

You'd think that would be the end of the story, but nope. When I went to unplug the vacuum I noticed grit on the the chair by the outlet. I figured I'd vacuum that up while I was there. What I didn't notice was my black silk scarf hanging on the back of the black chair. Yep. I vacuumed it up. Shlurp! Gone! 

Yes, there was swearing.

*Insert chores involved in extricating a silk scarf from a vacuum here. I'm too tired to list them.* 

Fortunately, the scarf and the vacuum both survived. The scarf will need cleaning, but the canister of my vacuum is spotless. Like it was polished with a silk scarf or something. Funny, I hadn't intended to clean the inside of the vacuum today.