Why take a shower?

I am always amazed that I survive the heat and humidity in Louisiana each summer. It is just miserable. My hair never dries and feels so heavy. My deodorant never works. My clothes wrinkle. Outside it is hot so you go inside the air conditioning is too cold. The condensation on the windows leads to mildew which I will have to clean if the humidity gets low. Everyone seems cranky and lethargic. Yet year after year I languish in the heat slathered in sunscreen, wearing a big hat and long sleeves. I do not tan and have given up any hope of being a bronzed beauty. I should really look into going way south like Argentina or Antarctica to escape the sun but it is likely that I never will. I know what to expect after 40 something years of enduring the summer broil yet that first blast of heat just sends me into waves of depression.

At the gym as I struggle through my cardio routine my face turns bright red. No cool towels or ice water negate the redness. People think that I am dying or having a heat stroke so they express concern. No, I am not dying I just have extremely fair skin. Haven't you seen anyone without a tan in the summer? I go through this drama every time the gym hires new trainers or new members show up. Even after I leave the gym and go to the grocery store or run an errand people just stare. Beet red face; lily white arms and legs dripping in sweat. What a vision of beauty!!

On the other hand my boyfriend just bakes. You would think that over the years I would have developed some type of coping mechanism for the summer heat or through the evolution of generations of my family that have lived in the South, I would be Teflon coated but NOOOOOO!!! Bill moves here from Chicago and acclimatizes immediately. He can mow the grass, wash the car, workout in the heat of the day and remain cool. Tan should be his middle name as he just bakes for hours with no sign of even a slight burn. I am sure that my constant pasty skin annoys him but I am not tanning or for that matter no fake tans.This is clearly unfair and I question evolution.

Another summer phenomenon is my mother. She never sweats or in her words "perspires." She has never been in the sun for any length of time and has never had a tan. This does not bother me as much as the lack of sweating. So why do I sweat so much? I understand the fair skin but why the sweat? I mean my mother NEVER sweats. I drip. She always looks cool. Her mascara never runs down her face. Her deodorant always works. Her clothes never wrinkle. Her friends are the same way. It drives me crazy.

My father on the other hand has fair skin and when he was younger he was always in the sun. He sweats but the heat never seems to affect him that much. I feel as though I am going to faint. What happened to this trait of being heat resistance? Again I question evolution. On the downside his many days in the sun resulted in multiple skin cancer lesions which had to be removed. This alone is an incentive to stay clear of the sun's rays.

So back to my original question, why take a shower when I will just sweat gallons as soon as I leave the house? I guess because hope is eternal. Maybe it won't be so humid today. Maybe it will be cool and cloudy. Maybe because I will smell better. Maybe I can finally dry my hair. Maybe because the cool water feels good. Maybe my beet red face will return to its normal color. Who knows?

My Pucci post today is a vintage shirt from the late 50's. The design by Emilio Pucci was inspired by Maya and Aztec hieroglyphics . The colors are aqua blue, olive green, coral, white and magenta with the figures outlined in black. The colors have faded slightly. The shirt is silk with beautiful fabric covered buttons. I scored this gem on Ebay and weirdly enough a month later I won the bid on a matching purse. I could not believe my luck as the blouse came from an estate in Maryland and the purse from Sherman Oaks, California. Also, it is a size 16 which freaks me out because I usually wear a size 6 or 8. So much for vanity sizing.

In the beginning........

Entering into the world of blogging, I feel like it is my first day at school, and I am the new kid. I am hoping that the blogging world is kind to me as I really don't have an idea what I am doing except learning a new way to express myself and hopefully communicate with other people that have the same interests, experiences, frustrations, etc. I am constantly fascinated with reading blogs. Bloggers that I read are passionate about their stories as I feel one should be. I believe everyone has a story to tell and Lord knows that I can talk the horns off a billy goat but can I write with the same enthusiasm. I am sure sometime or another someone out there will let me know.

My obsession with Emilio Pucci has been ongoing for years. I firmly believe that I was born obsessed. Since the advent of Ebay I have been able to get some really cool vintage pieces. The competition is fierce as most vintage pieces are TINY and the few pieces that I can wear are few and far between. No wonder Nicole Ritchie has a collection of Pucci vintage dresses. (Not that I want to emulate her in any way) I have two sources for new Pucci items, Adrianna at the Pucci store and Tracey at Tootsie's. They are wonderful, awesome people and I love it when they send me cool things in Swampville . My blogging aspirations writing about a place to share my clothing dramas and passions. I am really not a pampered princess but I would like to think that I am. I am currently working on upgrading my status.

My real life is the challenges of living with your elderly parents. Like today as I struggled to set this page up, my 80 year father announces that he has run about of gas in the driveway. Incredible. This means a trip to Ratville, ie the garage, to rummage around for a gas can and funnel. Luckily since I work for myself I rarely have anything other that sweats on so it is no big deal. I ask my father while searching Do you have a gas can? Does gas go bad? What is in this can? I sniff at what I think is gas but who knows. At 80 my dad doesn't move that swiftly so I take the can and attempt to funnel whatever is in there into his car hoping that nothing will explode. Success! except I stink like gasoline and yell, " just don't crank the engine till I have moved a considerable distance from the car." He turns the key, almost getting it cranked and I just keep moving away until the car backfires and starts. I follow him to the gas station just in case he runs out of whatever I just poured in to his tank. He can't hear the warning beep to let him know that his gas tank is low so he just keeps on going till he runs out. This is definitely not princess territory.

His other daily task is getting new telephones which I refuse to partake in this quest. My parents have not had working telephones in their house since January. When the phone rings about six different phones start to ring with two different answering machines competing to take your message. Thus no caller knows how to leave a message; well you get the picture. This is because my dad bought a telephone system that no one knows how to use. I have learned to stay away from these types of decisions. I am still recovering from upgrading to HDTV last year. The lesson learned, if you live with your elderly parents don't make any changes in the electronic world unless you are willing to patiently explain over and over again how to use the device. A new remote came with HDTV and I am still trying to explain how it works.

Enough already!

Pictured in this post is an Emilio Pucci cotton smocked shirt in the Cactus print updated by Christian Lacroix. I love this shirt even thought is has to be ironed. I purchased this several years ago on Ebay. Cactus seems to be a fairly popular Pucci print in these colors which are bright pink, yellow, orange and chartruse. I have a matching hat which is a real attention getter. It makes my head spin.