Today I woke up wishing I was a ballerina.
Tara-Lynn's post yesterday about New York City ballerinas of the 1960's struck a chord... I found myself looking through some of her other ballerina photos this morning and then I immediately went into my closet and tried to find something with a nice scoop neck and a good flowey skirt. I almost came up empty handed but then I remembered I bought this pink swiss dot 30s dress at Alameda last month.
It's been sitting in a wrinkled, sad mess for the past few weeks. There's split seams everywhere, and little rips and tears throughout the fabric - it's beyond repair, but it's still wearable and I prefer things a little tattered anyway. It actually used to be floor length until I chopped a few inches off this morning - I didn't feel bad doing it and I don't think I'll ever bother finishing the hem.