i had cleverly devised an outfit yesterday that i assumed to be a little less than utterly boring in my limited-by-laundry resources, wearing a bunch of slip-like garments and tops to otherwise excite some completely unassuming trousers.
and then promptly stepped out of my home to bike to work in a MONSOON.
upon arrival, as i stood and sopped all over our historical building stairwells and lovely carpets, i realized that fashion was not to be the order of the day, and changed into my unassuming black shirt and shed all slippey things and hung them about the office to dry.
so of course Miz R came in to her place of business to find what looked not unlike a 1920's brothel.
which of course led to discussion about the 1920's, and the fact that i was quite convinced i had found the ideal work cohorts when R came to our first introductory meeting so many months ago in a fedora. and as i said yesterday, in a way So Pithy that it cannot escape being blogged about, she might as well have been wearing a lamppost and a foggy London night, it was so Apt a headpiece.