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The other day, a new threshold of experience was attained, just then, fully dressed in the quiet moments before taking the air en Femme.
The skirt I had selected for the day was typical in terms of shape: a black, slim and fitted pencil cut, back-zipped and slit, seated quite high on the waist, and cut a couple of inches above the knee. This skirt, in black leather, is an assertive, highly visible fashion statement that never fails to seize my attention when I see a woman so outfitted. This is a look certain to rivet the attention of the female set too. Watch for it the next time you see a leather skirt, pay mind to the reactions of other women in the room. The leather skirt gets seen. Reactions on the faces and given voice to ranging from “you bitch, you look great” to pensive admiration, to puritanical disdain at such a daring outfit.
Again, driven in part by envy as I am, I have long wanted to stand in the eye of this little storm system. I did, just last week, find a day-appropriate leather (ok, synthetic pleather) skirt at Macy’s. With a couple of coupons and great luck in the clearance rack I managed the heist for a mere $21.00 down from $80.00. I need yet another shortish black skirt like I need toilet tissue on my heel, but leather was, I felt, underrepresented in my wardrobe. So there.
She fits perfectly and has the impact on posture, movement and stride that one expects from a well fitted skirt, but it came with an added, unexpected, and delightful bonus. Like any tailored skirt, it has a slick lining (acetate in this case) that facilitates comfort, a smooth exterior finish and relative ease of motion.
The lining being moored to a completely inelastic skirt exterior though, taken with the real restriction on stride length inherent in the figure hugging cut created a Sound, a gorgeous, upper case "S", Sound that provided me with one of the most rewarding sensory pay-offs from these years of self examination and wardrobe exploration: The soft, subtle and unmistakable swish of sleek lining across nyloned thigh. An absolute Choir of Hushed Angels between my knees.
The other day, a new threshold of experience was attained, just then, fully dressed in the quiet moments before taking the air en Femme.
The skirt I had selected for the day was typical in terms of shape: a black, slim and fitted pencil cut, back-zipped and slit, seated quite high on the waist, and cut a couple of inches above the knee. This skirt, in black leather, is an assertive, highly visible fashion statement that never fails to seize my attention when I see a woman so outfitted. This is a look certain to rivet the attention of the female set too. Watch for it the next time you see a leather skirt, pay mind to the reactions of other women in the room. The leather skirt gets seen. Reactions on the faces and given voice to ranging from “you bitch, you look great” to pensive admiration, to puritanical disdain at such a daring outfit.Again, driven in part by envy as I am, I have long wanted to stand in the eye of this little storm system. I did, just last week, find a day-appropriate leather (ok, synthetic pleather) skirt at Macy’s. With a couple of coupons and great luck in the clearance rack I managed the heist for a mere $21.00 down from $80.00. I need yet another shortish black skirt like I need toilet tissue on my heel, but leather was, I felt, underrepresented in my wardrobe. So there.
She fits perfectly and has the impact on posture, movement and stride that one expects from a well fitted skirt, but it came with an added, unexpected, and delightful bonus. Like any tailored skirt, it has a slick lining (acetate in this case) that facilitates comfort, a smooth exterior finish and relative ease of motion.
The lining being moored to a completely inelastic skirt exterior though, taken with the real restriction on stride length inherent in the figure hugging cut created a Sound, a gorgeous, upper case "S", Sound that provided me with one of the most rewarding sensory pay-offs from these years of self examination and wardrobe exploration: The soft, subtle and unmistakable swish of sleek lining across nyloned thigh. An absolute Choir of Hushed Angels between my knees.Swish.
The skirt guards against lengthening of step, or hurrying from Point A to Point B. In fact, making any distance with a modicum of grace necessitates much more swiveling of hip, shifting of rump, and tightly circling thigh than any other garment I possess. One is encouraged to adopt the exaggerated prowlish motion of the catwalk. This walk, dear friends, is not an affectation: it is a practical imperative. And it amplifies the Sound.
Swish, swish.
These soft woodwind notes join the percussive meter of the stiletto heel on hardwoods, tiles and pavements in a satisfying swell of music. Dramatic punctuations from the brass section herald such movements as the ascent up and on to the leather upholstered car seat, derriere first, with knee-locked legs swinging in behind. The sizzling crescendo when sinking deeply on to a couch, or attendant upon straightening the skirt and tucking the blouse, all of it very evident in ones quiet and newly self aware aural center. While others paid some attention to my appearance, I was drenched in this music, a private channel delivered with terrific reception even in a room crowded and buzzing with ambient sound tracks.
Swish, swish, swish.
And to close this small symphony, the dénouement notes, the diminuendo, muffled snare of the zip, sadly undone at the end of the day, heralding the long sibilant slide of skirt from high on hip to pooled at feet. A deflated, briefly sustained and mournful cello grace note from the now formless, collapsed and accordioned skirt signaling the end of a magical, musical performance.
Encore. Bravo. Encore.
If you like music, and you like the look of a nice leather(ish) skirt, I encourage you treat yourself to a little shopping, and to treat your ears to a little night music. There is a positively operatic selection of them online and in stores at Macy's.
And if this fun is not on your program today, I would be so happy if you might share your favorites Sounds of dressing here today in the form of a comment. I’m all ears.
The skirt guards against lengthening of step, or hurrying from Point A to Point B. In fact, making any distance with a modicum of grace necessitates much more swiveling of hip, shifting of rump, and tightly circling thigh than any other garment I possess. One is encouraged to adopt the exaggerated prowlish motion of the catwalk. This walk, dear friends, is not an affectation: it is a practical imperative. And it amplifies the Sound.
Swish, swish.
These soft woodwind notes join the percussive meter of the stiletto heel on hardwoods, tiles and pavements in a satisfying swell of music. Dramatic punctuations from the brass section herald such movements as the ascent up and on to the leather upholstered car seat, derriere first, with knee-locked legs swinging in behind. The sizzling crescendo when sinking deeply on to a couch, or attendant upon straightening the skirt and tucking the blouse, all of it very evident in ones quiet and newly self aware aural center. While others paid some attention to my appearance, I was drenched in this music, a private channel delivered with terrific reception even in a room crowded and buzzing with ambient sound tracks.
Swish, swish, swish.
And to close this small symphony, the dénouement notes, the diminuendo, muffled snare of the zip, sadly undone at the end of the day, heralding the long sibilant slide of skirt from high on hip to pooled at feet. A deflated, briefly sustained and mournful cello grace note from the now formless, collapsed and accordioned skirt signaling the end of a magical, musical performance.Encore. Bravo. Encore.
If you like music, and you like the look of a nice leather(ish) skirt, I encourage you treat yourself to a little shopping, and to treat your ears to a little night music. There is a positively operatic selection of them online and in stores at Macy's.
And if this fun is not on your program today, I would be so happy if you might share your favorites Sounds of dressing here today in the form of a comment. I’m all ears.
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4 comments:
Awesome post, darling Petra!
Love your skirt!
Fave quote: "I need yet another shortish black skirt like I need toilet tissue on my heel" ~ hysterical!
xoxox,
CC
its a nice looking dressing. as per introduction its a quality material and its designing is amazing.
I must have missed this marvellously perceptive post in my first frenzied read-through (a few years ago) of your thought-provoking blog..
There are many components to the vibes that women give off and 'sound' is definitely one of them. In your uniquely inimitable prose you've absolutely nailed the magical swish of a tight skirt over nyloned legs.. and in doing so you've uncovered a seam of sensory signals that could be explored.
Just as the jangle of the dog's lead is enough to wake my pooch instantly from his deep sleep, so the unmistakeable click-clack of heels on a pavement never fails to break through whatever I may have been thinking at the time and grab my complete attention and yes - envy..
When I used to dress, I would long for the finishing touch of a spritz of perfume here and there but I was always paranoid that I would leave a faint swirl of it in my wake after I'd changed back into drab. Perfume reacts differently to skin type and once a woman has hit on the right perfume for her, her personality and her skin it really becomes her signature. A few years ago I was walking on auto-pilot through town when I hit an invisible tendril of perfume that stopped me in my tracks as it took me back to a girl I'd known decades ago..
There are so many other uniquely feminine elements to this conundrum - texture; shape; all the different varieties of cut (straight skirts vs pleats for starters) that create their own distinctive movement; silhouette; conceal vs reveal; curved planes and the underlying eternal mystery of "what lies beneath". A woman's layer of outerwear being strictly for public consumption while the inner layer is reserved for her own pleasure - and invited guests! This distinction has no parallel in the strictly utilitarian world of male drab..
In all of my dressing experiences, there were always limiting factors at work - such as, my legs weren't hair-free, my nails weren't manicured and polished, I was wearing a wig, etc. Even at my best, I was aware that there was always something I could have improved on. I sometimes lie awake and try and imagine the scenario of being 100% feminine from the skin out.. and then I wake up!
I wonder if women ever suffer from sensory overload as they pass us by in their perfumed, fluttering high-stepping splendour?
G
I must have missed this marvellously perceptive post in my first frenzied read-through (a few years ago) of your thought-provoking blog..
There are many components to the vibes that women give off and 'sound' is definitely one of them. In your uniquely inimitable prose you've absolutely nailed the magical swish of a tight skirt over nyloned legs.. and in doing so you've uncovered a seam of sensory signals that could be explored.
Just as the jangle of the dog's lead is enough to wake my pooch instantly from his deep sleep, so the unmistakeable click-clack of heels on a pavement never fails to break through whatever I may have been thinking at the time and grab my complete attention and yes - envy..
When I used to dress, I would long for the finishing touch of a spritz of perfume here and there but I was always paranoid that I would leave a faint swirl of it in my wake after I'd changed back into drab. Perfume reacts differently to skin type and once a woman has hit on the right perfume for her, her personality and her skin it really becomes her signature. A few years ago I was walking on auto-pilot through town when I hit an invisible tendril of perfume that stopped me in my tracks as it took me back to a girl I'd known decades ago..
There are so many other uniquely feminine elements to this conundrum - texture; shape; all the different varieties of cut (straight skirts vs pleats for starters) that create their own distinctive movement; silhouette; conceal vs reveal; curved planes and the underlying eternal mystery of "what lies beneath". A woman's layer of outerwear being strictly for public consumption while the inner layer is reserved for her own pleasure - and invited guests! This distinction has no parallel in the strictly utilitarian world of male drab..
In all of my dressing experiences, there were always limiting factors at work - such as, my legs weren't hair-free, my nails weren't manicured and polished, I was wearing a wig, etc. Even at my best, I was aware that there was always something I could have improved on. I sometimes lie awake and try and imagine the scenario of being 100% feminine from the skin out.. and then I wake up!
I wonder if women ever suffer from sensory overload as they pass us by in their perfumed, fluttering high-stepping splendour?
G
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