Viewport width =
May 31, 2010 | by  | in Opinion |
Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

Overskirt

One small step out of the taxi to my new Kelburn home and my ice skater dress is already above my ears. It helps that builders, who are wearing the same boots I have on, are commenting nearby. I should have learnt from such a traumatic entrance.

The next day I entertain motorists while at the traffic lights trying to position hands and handbag to contain my skirt.

Sure Marilyn could look great doing it, but that was a static image and Wellington is anything but this.
I persevere with the weather report to pick the day when I can wear a skirt without flying the flag.

However I am rather impatient.

How can we stand against strong winds without being overly flirtatious?

If the thought of a skirt sewn up the middle doesn’t scare you, then squarts are an excellent alternative. I might trifle with the eighties and dig up my bike shorts. That way my cheeks wont be the same colour as Bendon’s pink.

Share on FacebookShare on Google+Pin on PinterestTweet about this on Twitter

About the Author ()

Comments are closed.

Recent posts

  1. Issue 21, Vol 81: Looking Back
  2. Foraging Video Recipes
  3. 5 TV Shows that *Might* Fool Others into Thinking You’re a History Wunderkid
  4. Books With Protagonists Our Age (That Don’t Suck)
  5. Changing Tides
  6. In Defense of the Shitty Sci-Fi Sequel
  7. Avantdale Bowling Club
  8. Medium Playback
  9. The International Angle
  10. The Poo Review
Website-Cover-Photo7

Editor's Pick

This Ain’t a Scene it’s a Goddamned Arm Wrestle

: Interior – Industrial Soviet Beerhall – Night It was late November and cold as hell when I stumbled into the Zhiguli Beer Hall. I was in Moscow, about to take the trans-Mongolian rail line to Beijing, and after finding someone in my hostel who could speak English, had decided