Maxi dress mayhem in Italy

I know you're enamored with the tower right now, but HEY! Look at my stripe-y dress yo!

 :D 

It's Jamie Christina's Mission Maxi pattern done in a stretch knit from (duh) ITALY. I felt like a bit of a goddess in it, because it trapped me somewhat when I walked.

Let me explain.

I mean, first off, I'm not one to take huge crazy ass strides or anything, but I like my freedom (cue William Wallace) when I'm moving around. You understand.

But sometimes you guys, fashion calls for entrapment of the body. Maybe I need to find a better word, I keep visualizing Catherine Zeta Jones. (You remember the movie right?) OMG it's soooo 1999, but I have been known to practice the laser scene in my kitchen once in a while when the urge hits.  

Moving on.

I cut it so the stripes would be horizontal, and the way I should've cut it was so the stripes were vertical. All those pesky bias/stretch rules and stuff. I am not one to be deterred by rules or instructions, so I tossed that (sound bit of advice) out and carried on. 

So now when I walk in it I kind of take little steps and feel like concubine-the Japanese ones from hundreds of years ago, you following?

But if I lift it about three inches it's totally fine, so I do that when I get pissed off.

Otherwise I love it. I think feeling like an entrapped damsel in distress is sorta fun anyways. Keeps things fresh.

Like my fanny pack? Can't say that in Britain though, ---here it's called a "bum bag". I picked this beaut up at Accessorize which is probably my favorite store 

e v e r. 

In the airport it's tax free too, so I'm like this --- CRAAAaaaaaaaAAAAAzzzzzyyy time in the hA-ouse.

For my non Brit friends, taxes here are (in a nutshell) psychotic.  Twenty-damn-percent VAT is a killer.

*VAT= very astonishing taxation

 I rationalize my purchases (as you do) with completely brilliant logic: I am not a kitty person, or a Coach bag person, or a jewel maven, so I can spend a bit on bum bags and other related bling without need for interrogation. 

This is the age of reason, right?

Right here I'm thinking "hurry up and take some pics so I can stop acting like such a damn tourist"...

I love looking like Sporty Spice with the racer back detail.

Let me add I look puffy due to copious amounts of pasta, bread, and wine for four days...... Or maybe I just need to hit the gym a bit harder, but that's never fun because I always end up bruised and achy, which then makes me even b*tchier than I already am. 

Anyways, it's not about me, it's about Italy!!!

They speak loudly, so I'm suddenly speaking very loudly = even in type.

I literally LOL'd when I saw a British tourist cover his ears when the Cafe barrista was speaking to him. 

Yes. Yes we did.

Sick of pics of the tower yet?

Bronze copy of the David at the top of a hill above Florence.

My eyes are immediately drawn to that awesome leather jacket-----you wouldn't believe the quality of Italian leather crafts and the great prices that follow, as there is so much to choose from.

Ponte Vecchio (The Old Bridge)

Gorgeous jewel shops line the bridge, but I kept walking. I'd rather save up for an original Botticelli (print). LOLOLOL

Such a drama queen. I have no idea where she gets it.

I think it's difficult making my fabrics drape properly, but stone.....??

Unbelievable.

Ummm.......nice.....muscles.

Yeah, that. I'm admiring the musculature in my best arty mindset. (But(t) why oh whyyyyy do I keep looking at those miraculous buttocks? For shame.) 

Tell me it's human nature. Make me feel less pervy. Please. I beg of you.

Three things Italy has tons of:

1. Motorcycles/Scooters (though let's not call them that, it's so emasculating).

2. Coffee shops / Cafes  (Horrrayyyy yipppeeeeee!!!)

3. Leather  (or leath-A if you remember that lady on Project Runway, hilariousness).

     and 4. *I'll put this in small print- lots of H O T hot hot hot people....I mean on FIRE!  And just so I don't get in trouble, we were told many times over that our last name (my husband's name) is very Tuscan, so therefore his family must originate from Tuscany, so therefore he is mega hot inherently in his DNA. 

Wiping brow and looking around the room to be sure husband is not in the vicinity. Clear.

If you've read World Without End by Ken Follet you will remember when Merthin travels to Florence to see the Duomo, among other things...(Remember the whole Caris fiasco?) Anywho,when we walked up the street and turned the corner to view it in full my breath was taken away.

It's enormous, larger than I could ever explain to anyone in words. It's so finely detailed and intricate I didn't know where to look. Even my husband was well impressed, and it takes a lot to impress him (if it's not electrical and computer-y).

I think by now everyone that knows me knows how much I love cathedrals, palaces, castles, and old buildings.  But this one honeys---this one takes the cake.

It's that amazing.

Mia tries to pry a door open across the street from the Duomo. Look at those carvings!

I have to say my kids were troopers. I tormented them with guided tours of the Uffizi and Acadamey galleries, which took the entire day two. I did a fair amount of bribery but I do that all the time, so what's the diff? We stopped for the "best gelato in the world" at Bar Vivoli on day one, and from there it was "If you're good I'll buy you the biggest gelato they serve" type thing. 

As Sarah sings, "you do what you have to do".

*Whenever able I share my love for Sarah because she is so --- so----- a m a z i n g.

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We did a lot of trains, planes, and--- automobiles. With loads of style of course, complete with an extremely heavy, bulging toy bag that I carried, and a pink leopard suitcase (blame Betsy Johnson) that my poor husband lugged around. But never you mind, it's all in your mindset you know.

I had ginormous sunglasses on, so automatically the paparazzi was hounding us. 

They can be so absurd. I don't know how Wills and Kate deal. Sigh.

That took me ages to write, so I hope you found me hilariously amusing and witty.  LOL (That's the only acronym I can remember right now as it's past midnight and I'm considered old-- according to a fifteen year old I encountered in the Shopette. When he said "oh snap, you could be my mother" I gave him crazy eyes. He ran.) 

Ciao bellas!

**kiss kiss to both cheeks**