|Color Me Sentimental. Flame hair, electric blue dress, and a monster sweater made of memories.|
I was already a fool, but now I'm sentimental.
Last week, I tweeted about it:
And seemed familiar. "I haven't worn this in years," said charming boyfriend. "These are from my Sac-town days." Meaning he wore it a million years ago, when he used to live in my hometown of Sacramento, California, around the time we knew each other. When we had hung out at his house, sipped Sierra Nevadas out of the bottle, and listened to records. You know, and stuff.
"I remember you wearing a cardigan," I mused, I remember that when we first kissed, future charming boyfriend was wearing a mohair sweater. I didn't remember the color of it, only that it was a vintage fuzzy thing. I remember the color of his hair (bottle blond with dark roots) and I remember the color of his eyes (a bright halogen blue) but not the color of the mohair sweater. And, I remember the kiss. I so clearly remember that first kiss: it was soft and sweet + electric.
|I don't remember the color of it, only that it was a vintage fuzzy thing.|
"This must be it," he says. It had been his only fuzzy mohair sweater. Not that he remembers what he was wearing 15 years ago, during our first kiss- that moment is colored differently for both of us. Such are the ways of love, mis amors- Cupid isn't contracted to shoot both parties with the same sized arrow. But this ol' girl feels ELECTRIC when it comes to that boy. And sweetly sentimental now that I'm wearing his sweater.
"I so clearly remember that first kiss: it was soft and sweet + electric."
- vintage '60's mohair sweater, gifted
- vintage handmade plaid cotton dress
- vintage leather belt
- cream and hearts tights, on clearance, Target
- brown non-leather booties, Target
Speaking of Rosebud love: