Dress Sexy At My Funeral

Dress sexy ... at a funeral? What is this tasteless nonsense, you ask? Well, it's the name of a song by the band Smog, and it's a fitting title for the item of clothing du jour. 

Remember that classic line (dating from, like, the moment Audrey Hepburn slunk out as Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany's) about how every woman worth her nylons should own a little black dress?

Well, dear readers, here is mine.

What's it, now? It's a black fringe dress with firm-lookin' shoulder pads, a faux-diamond decolletage pin, lace sleeves, and ... more fringe than should legally be allowed on a dress. If there were legal limits to fringe. Which there are not, thank your lucky stars, guys and gals.

Props are a handy trick for making photos about clothes more about props.

Is it Western, is it punk, is it machine washable?

In case you forgot, THERE ARE SHOULDERPADS INVOLVED.

Now, just where did this lil' black dress come from? Well ... today is Cheat Day, my friends!

In which ... shhh!  I feature an item that I did not actually buy from Goodwill, NAM, or Salvation Army. This dress was purchased at Red Light, Portland, OR's favorite vintage store, according to the local press-mob.

This dress has also made a few appearances (with me in it, of course, not by itself) at Portland's one and only punk bar. While there, I got tons of phone numbers from greaser punks in leather jackets. Or maybe I just got friendly indications that I could go ahead of them in the line for the toilet-hole.

Nonetheless! This dress is a winner and a keeper, my dears. I might even wear it to David Bowie's funeral, when the poor sod - I mean, glam genius - kicks the bucket. Y'know, if I could get invited.