The Lucy DressI watched the movie Julie and Julia today, for what must be the 12th time, weeping over the sweet, supportive husbands (and counting myself lucky to be in that club) and the idea of people’s writing/publishing dreams coming true.  Julia Child’s ’50-’60s Paris is a feast for the vintage lover with its short gloves and cloche-inspired hats and raw silk dresses cinched at the waist and billowing like very elegant souffles at the skirts.

And, of course, there is the never-ending parade of butter.  Very vintage.

But, in between salivating over the butter, I was reminded of my Lucy Dress–even though in the depths of a Canadian January, it’s not something I have a hope of wearing for at least another 5 months.   Right now, it’s all about the winter wear:

-fleece (guaranteed to make me so full of static electricity that I can snap, crackle pop my way through the house)

– tights that are inevitably too short for my legs

– clothing items that accidentally have too much wool in them because I forgot to check the label or was overly optimistic about how much wool I can stand in the name of warmth, before I brought their itchiness home with me

– turtleneck (I only have one)

– and a decidely un-hip habit of going to bed with a microwaved bag of buckwheat to keep my feet warm.sorels

This sexy wardrobe seems to be my (not to mention my husband’s) lot from October until May.  Today, for example, I was wearing a very un-vintage-y down coat and rubber boots to help my husband unpack supplies to build a shed.  It was a good day because my clunky,  it’s-a-temperature-outside-that-guarantees-my-long-ago-frostbitten-toes-will-start-aching-without-them-in-3-minutes Sorel-style boots weren’t required.  It was “warm” today at 1 degree C but still a long way from a Lucy Dress Day.

I call it the Lucy Dress because when I tried it on, I immediately felt like Lucille Ball.  It has that classic 50s dress shape to it, is a luscious shade of red and it makes me want to voop.   Y’know, hold the skirt out from my body with the tips of my fingers and swish and twirl and bat my eyelashes…and there you have it:  voop, voop.  Oh, and maybe eat a little something slathered with beurre blanc and have the classic song, “Time After Time” playing in the background, just to complete the vintage illusion.

But, it’s not time for the Lucy Dress just yet.  So, when the next snow storm arrives, I’ll have to content myself with vooping as the snow falls while I try to catch the snowflakes on my tongue.   Luckily, that’s pretty fun too.