This is an older Sepia Saturday that I didn't get finished in time.
I don't own much jewelry. My wedding ring was purchased for $20 in Bali, where we were married. My earring days are long gone as I've developed some kind of allergy. Working for much of my career in laboratories and food plants, jewelry was out of the question because of the obvious: danger from snagging yourself on equipment and having a finger ripped off; dropping bits and pieces into food being processed; harboring contaminants in the nooks and crannies. I eschewed it for myself but admired it from afar.
I remember most of my female relatives being adorned by little more than a wedding ring. My mother liked jewelry but never owned anything really valuable.
The contraption-like rigging of the jewelry in the prompt photo leads me to think this Texas belle may have had kinky masochist tendencies. The necklace connected to the belt has an S/M look; something was hurting in that arrangement. The belt looks vicious...metallic, stiff and uncomfortable. If she bent over to pick up a handkerchief, she'd be jabbed in the gut. She's probably girdled up and adding to her discomfort are those impossibly complicated earrings fluttering at the edge of her peripheral vision. If she wasn't a masochist, she'd at the least be damned uncomfortable and cranky. Using a little imagination I can see a "Get me out out of here!" look in her eyes.
Personally, as I sit here in my elastic-waisted garden pants and sneakers, the notion of wearing any kind of constrictive clothing or dangling jewelry sends waves of revulsion running down my spine. I'm eternally grateful for having been born when I was, missing some of the most uncomfortable dress eras, for instance the aforementioned girdle. Blissfully by the time I could use one, it was okay at last to jiggle a bit. How disappointing it is (because the freedom to jiggle took a while to secure) to see the young women now choosing to squeeze themselves into Spanx Power Panties. Is this not the girdle redux?
|Spanx power panties|
There's also an opportunity now for men to enjoy being squeezed for fashion in various kinds of undershirts and shorts described as "power performance" and "hard core compression" and cleverly sub-branded "Manx". Enough of that.
It was actually the lady's bare shoulders that first interested me about the prompt. A little racy perhaps? I was going to write about shoulders but I've already run on and on about nothing and the weeds in my garden are edging toward control. Because I did find this lovely Michael Buble rendition of my favorite shoulder song and as I'm all over the place with this post, I'm just tossing it as an ending. The tempo he chose is langorous and lovely....
Michael Buble - Put your head on my shoulder