Clarissa, left: “Bernadette, honey, I don’t know if you were right about this hat.”
Bernadette, right: “Don’t be silly. It’s terribly fashionable and it makes a statement.”
Clarissa: “The statement it’s making is that I can’t see a damn thing. I’m just looking in the direction of your voice and hoping for the best.”
Bernadette: “You really shouldn’t worry about it. I’d be more concerned that the animal around your neck isn’t quite dead, as it seems to be nibbling on your trendy Gothic carnation.”
Clarissa: “I can’t see that, either. Would you be a dear and make it stop?”
Bernadette: “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly. That would require me to temporarily relinquish my hold on this cryptic box I’m clutching, and that would completely ruin my ensemble. Fashion is performance art, and wrangling livestock is not in my script.”
Clarissa: “I see. Would it be rude of me to suggest that your lack of concern for my personal well-being is coming across as a bit bitchy? What if my accent piece has rabies? It would greatly perturb me if I have to seek medical attention just because you fancy your special box. I would certainly give up my own box if certain situations arose.”
Bernadette: “Yes, dear, we all know that you give up your box quite frequently.”
Clarissa: “I am appalled that you would say that, especially given your own history of box relinquishing. At least the number for my box hasn’t been scrawled on lavatory walls across the city.”
Bernadette: “I sense that I may have underestimated your sensitivity concerning boxes and what one does with them. Perhaps I’ve had too much of the high-octane coffee we’ve been guzzling for hours as we wait for something meaningful to do with our lives. Can we move past it and be friends again?”
Clarissa: “I’m not sure. Now that I ponder this situation, it occurs to me that you are the one who suggested all of the couture choices that are now causing me discomfort and trepidation. I think you have a dark ulterior motive that reeks of unseemliness. Are you purposely making me look wretched just so you and your worn-out box will appear more attractive by default?”
Bernadette: “Perhaps the coffee is buzzing me toward the dark side once again, but I must say I’m surprised you finally connected the dots. I’ve used you for years. All the great fashion icons know that the best way to become a diva is to surround yourself with those who couldn’t put a decent outfit together if their lives depended on it.”
Clarissa: “You are a nasty and vile human being.”
Bernadette: “And you look like a hooker at an outlet mall.”
Brief pause whilst further accusations are considered and the potent coffee we cannot see in this photo cools considerably.
Clarissa: “I suppose one of us should slap the other and stomp away in a rather dramatic fashion.”
Bernadette: “Probably. But it took us forever to get our socks to look just right. We should stay for at least another hour and soak up the compliments that are surely coming our way.”
Clarissa: “Fair enough. Let’s just seethe and quietly hate each other.”
Bernadette: “I’m on it.”
Apparently-alive stole around Clarissa’s neck: “Could one of you pass me the salt? This carnation is a little bland.”
Note: For those comparing notes, the original version of this Past Imperfect simply read “Every once in a while, even the drag queens miss the mark a bit…” I decided to add some extra ingredients.
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
^^^^^^^^ Another, amusing and eminently readable offering from Mr Lah-gee-oh-see right there ladies and gents. Note the accentuated “e” at the end of his name. He insists upon it and becomes pretty damn testy if you don’t toe the correct pronunciation line.
So, you have been warned folks.
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We are never going to move past the name game, are we? Sigh. Still, thank you for the initial laudatory comment, I tingle as I bask in the adulation, but there will come a day when I force you to say my last name correctly. Said with all admiration and respect… 😉
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Ha! I always enjoy your daily offerings to the blogging gods Brian, so I’ll desist with the name gags and soak up your admiration and respect instead.
Ahhhh, sure feels good folks! *bask, bask* 😀
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I think I love both versions. I reckon the hat is to keep her from seeing the SOCKS!
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True enough. The hat selection might be a desperate attempt at maintaining mental health… 😉
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The were the first things I saw, and I can’t believe it – why the heck would you wear spats on your legs? Are you Scrooge? Totally hideous and vile, there is evil in this photo. 😉
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LOL! For some reason, you completely killed me with “there is evil in this photo”. You got a big guffaw out of me and I’m still chuckling… 😉
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So glad for the guffaw. You give me plenty of them regularly (don’t think too deeply about that statement, it could be perceived as a bit risqué), so it is nice to return the favour.
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I thought you had overlooked the socks.
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Nope, they slapped me as soon as I stumbled across the photo… 😉
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It’s the frozen wide-eyed without alarm but with a touch of amazement expression of Bernadette that gives her away as a total Bitch Queen. That and the fact that she is clearly manipulating the critter with an early radio controlled collar concealed in its fur and operated by that box! I do love a brawl. Particularly a verbal one with no bodily movement.
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Oh, I relish that angle, with the remote-controlled critter and the non-physicality. I am inspired to rush off and feverishly work on a rewrite. Of course, said rewrite may end up in my pile of 4 billion rewrites that will never again see the light of day, but we must persevere in our literary endeavors, else we slowly perish… 😉
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Sometimes I wish I bashed out my work on an old fashioned clack clack typewriter and could dramatically rip the paper out with disgusted aplomb and hurl it manfully at the overflowing waste You bin and then knock back a shot of Absynthe to dull the pain of seeking writerly perfection ….
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In my distant youth I had a fashionable hat. It was gift. Semi-shapeless, leather cowboy hat-ish, with a band that turned into fringe down the back. I stepped off a hot summer stage at the OKC Zoo Amphitheater one afternoon to see my father standing close by with his ever present cameras.
“Hey, how do you like my hat?”
“I’d have to have two of them. One to (poop) in and one to cover it up with.”
I decided to keep it and wore it often in his presence.
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I normally would be in complete support of your use of the hat as social and familial defiance, but I tripped over the “fringe down the back” aspect and I don’t know if I can get back up… 😉
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It was more of a leather braid that unbranded itself. Does that help?
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Those socks though…
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Right? Stunned, I was…
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The fellow on the left (“Clarissa” yeah *snicker*) betrays himself by the noble profile of that proboscis sticking out under the kerchief ‘cap’ and the rather large Adam’s apple bobbling there in the middle of the neck. And no woman would be caught dead in Size 13 slings (backless pointy shoes) paired with that disturbing houndstooth pattern on the socks. Who wears knee socks with HEELS anyway?? Oh dear…MY EYES. I suspect the hat was merely to hide the fact that ‘she’ is sporting a manly buzz cut or maybe a duck-tail under there and didn’t want the minister to see…. some things should probably be left in the closet, non? Still you have to admire ‘her’ for being the first to bust out of that closet and proclaim loudly that she had arrived…
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Yes, despite my concern (fear?) when it comes to their outfits, I do have to admire both of them for having the gumption to not only appear in public like this but to actually loll about about on a park bench. There’s some bravery here. It might be misguided, but still, bravery… 😉
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I think I killed a similar stole after my mother’s death. The thing had eaten most of her St. John suits.
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I think that sounds like a blog post that you should write… 😉
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Ya think?
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Am I the only one who loves the socks?! Especially that of the drag queen, the sort of hounds-tooth ones with the seam down the front. Did you notice that, the seam in the front? My gosh, that’s what *makes* it, my friends – the seam! It’s the mark of fashionable hosiery everywhere!
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It is, perhaps, a bit unfair of me to rashly judge the sock-choices of others. After all, and I really should capture this for posterity, there was a time when I would not wear anything but grey dress socks. Even with tennis shoes. Can you smell the damaged psyche? 😉
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Who says nothing interesting or socially significant occurred in society a century ago?…. Oh, wait, that was me again. 😆
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Are you sure that it’s occurring NOW?… 😉
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The very word Kardashian is proof that nothing good is happening – and even if it were – ‘You’re Fired!’ 😦 😯
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Truer words never spoken… 😉
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Those socks are quite something! And i think the carnation needs to be moved higher on her lapel a little so the mink, if that’s what it is, can reach it. Lol. It’s like dangling a carrot.
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The carnation DOES need to be in a better snacking position. I’d call it animal abuse, but I think that’s already the case since she’s WEARING the poor thing…
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Definitely. It should just take a big bite out of her neck..
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