Throwing out the boy clothes

 I was out of sorts earlier this week and I'm not sure why but I remedied that today with a shopping trip that's finally convinced me that I really neither want nor need any more boy clothes in my wardrobe. 

All the trousers in menswear departments do not fit me. They are all way too long and as I have feminine hips (yes, I do ☺) they are too tight. Ridiculous! I mean, when trousers were an inch or two too long you could take them in, but when they are 6-12 inches too long, as they all seem to be these days (I'm looking at you, Giraffeman!), you can't alter them without their looking weird. But women's trousers/jeans/legwear fit me perfectly and since manufacturers have now realised that women would like pockets, too - and deep ones at that - then suddenly there is no need to go for horrid ill-fitting boywear any more, even if I have to present in male mode. Yay! Finally, all my needs really start to converge. 

You may say that if you're wearing trousers, can you really tell if they are boy trousers or girl trousers? And the answer is: not always physically but always psychologically. I know my clothes are girl clothes, even if that may not be obvious to others, and that makes me happy. 

 

In the pink

Now, I know I've said how much I like the colour cerise, which is trending again this year, and is the colour of the font on my blog, but is this perhaps a little too much of a good thing?

Ceasefire

Today, November 4th, is Armistice Day in Italy. It's a week before everyone else's commemoration on November 11th because Austria-Hungary surrendered to Italian forces this day in 1918. 

To commemorate it, the Bersaglieri band were in town. Bersaglieri ("sharpshooters") are light infantry founded by the Kingdom of Sardinia in 1836. So light, in fact, that the cash-strapped royal treasury couldn't afford any transport for them, not even horses for officers, and they have therefore traditionally run everywhere. The traditional march they play is therefore not something they march to but run to:

The other thing that they are famous for is their hats with a spray of capercaillie feathers on. The feathers look black at first sight but have lovely iridescent green streaks in them, as you can see in this closeup of a hat worn by a lady next to me. 

 

I think I'd look quite striking in a hat with capercaillie feathers in, too! Although I'd feel a bit guilty. After all, Mr Capercaillie wants his feathers so he can impress Miss Capercaillie. I'm all for romance!

 

Apart from music and decorative uniforms, Armistice Day reminds us of the awful business of war. Although Italy was the only belligerent in World War I to achieve its war aims, this came at the cost of over half a million dead, not to mention those permanently crippled, all the civilian casualties, people who went mad, committed suicide or were executed, lost their loved ones or were otherwise traumatised. All for territory that ought to have been obtainable under existing treaty arrangements between Italy and Austria. I see the slaughter in Eastern Europe right now and that disgusts me. How do we contain men's violence and the rapacious brutality of psycopathic leaders? 

If we all wore pretty frocks, would that improve things? I can't help feeling it might. 

Sue x