DREAMING FRANKENSTEIN, HEARTBREAK POEM & PREPARATIONS FOR INDEPENDENCE DAY MAYHEM

The song No. 13 Baby by the Pixies is great because the guitar riff at the end is the sound of falling in love.

I am really busy today... this entire week in fact. But it's been a lot of fun.

Check out www.thefashionspot.com to see all the amazing Haute Couture stories. What heaven.

So, I have been thinking a lot about love & heartbreak (as usual), and what it means when someone gets under your skin even though you try so hard not to let that happen...

These lines are from a poem by the very Scottish Liz Lochhead, who I saw read back in college:

DREAMING FRANKENSTEIN

...Later, stark staring awake to everything
(the room, the dark parquet, the white high Alps beyond)
all normal in the moonlight
and him gone, save a ton-weight sensation,
the marks fading visibly where
his buttons had bit into her and
the rough serge of his suiting had chafed her sex,
she knew - oh that was not how -
but he'd entered her utterly.

This was the penetration
of seven swallowed apple pips.
Or else he'd slipped like a silver dagger
between her ribs and healed her up secretly
again. Anyway
he was inside her
and getting him out again
would be agony fit to quarter her,
unstitching everything.

Eyes on those high peaks
in the reasonable sun of the morning,
she dressed in damped muslin
and sat down to quill and ink
and icy paper.

* * *

Recently I have been concentrating on taking a seam ripper to those thick black stitches holding my heart together and tearing out the silver dagger someone hid in there. There is a certain amount of sorrow, but I really believe we have to let go of the things that do not serve us.

The above photo is Armani. I want that suit.