Tagged: clothes

On a Hook Beside the Anchor Toilet

  • by jenclearly did not have arms
  • Mother was worried
  • cash to pay someone else to do so
  • unnecessarily clandestine
  • in stunning unitards

Tune in next time part 921      Click Here for Earlier Installments

On a hook beside the anchor toilet hung a garment made of terrycloth. It resembled a robe, but clearly did not have arms, making it more of a robe/vest hybrid. When I entered the Academy, Mother was worried that I might go into fashion design instead of spycraft. She’d bribed me to enter the family business. I had brilliant fashion ideas, and if I wasn’t permitted to see them through, at least her bribes provided me enough cash to pay someone else to do so in my place, to bring my visions to life. This luxurious vest-robe, called a vrobe in my unnecessarily clandestine sketchbook, was the first of my designs I had seen in person. Unless you count all the acrobats in stunning unitards of my devising that populate the circuses of the world. Which you should. But the vrobe I now held in my hands was even more magnificent. A tear trickled down my cheek as I realized that the man lurking behind the seaweed must be my sartorial partner. If only I could remember his name.

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Of the Many Looks People have Given Me Over the Years

  • by jenspooky, grim, unearthly, and rebellious
  • “And I will cut off the sixth finger, this very day.”
  • wore a top hat over a hoodie
  • “The doorman knows your movements.”
  • foil-covered room

Tune in next time part 909      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Of the many looks people have given me over the years (spooky, grim, unearthly, and rebellious among them), furtive is my least favorite. I prefer to be the furtive one in any and all interactions. I turned my attention back to the nanobot app and entered the homing command again, paying careful attention to each glyph. During my Digital Mystic training, my partner and I devised a mnemonic song for remembering the purpose of each arcane squiggle. I could remember that much, but not who my partner had been. That must be a clue!

I stared at the glyphs and let my mind drift back. In my memories I saw a hand wearing a haptic glove with too many fingers. “I stole this from my brother,” a feminine voice said. “And I will cut off the sixth finger, this very day.”

Had I ever heard of anybody with six fingers who might have a sister named Ursula? The only six-fingered individual I could remember was someone who was kicked off the Academy’s beatnik team when he wore a top hat over a hoodie to a competition, but as far as I could remember he was an only child.

But could I trust my memory?

Stomping footsteps announced the pharma man’s approach, and with him the nanobots I needed to restore my faulty memory. I gave him a furtive look and whispered, “The doorman knows your movements.” His eyes went wide with fright.

To safely transfer the nanobots from the pharma man to myself, I would need a foil-covered room in which to work. This being a summit facility, there must be one nearby. “Follow me,” I said.

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As Luck Would Have It

  • by jenI should have warned you.
  • their color-coded jackets
  • supple lilac leather
  • as fascinating as they are adorable
  • took off her crown and started beating him with it

Tune in next time part 907       Click Here for Earlier Installments

As luck would have it, I am a seventh-order digital mystic. I should have warned you. I’m sure you’re surprised because digital mystics are known for their color-coded jackets which make it easy to tell the orders apart, and I never wear mine. I’d loved the supple lilac leather moto jacket I was awarded upon ascending to the seventh order — those things are as fascinating as they are adorable! — but, it was stolen from me years ago. I was attending a family function at the White House when my parents got into a heated argument. My father (the president) arrived late, with one of his many mistresses on his arm. My mother (then vice-president) took off her crown and started beating him with it. The brawl escalated quickly and I stepped in to prevent it from becoming (another) international incident. When I returned to my seat, my resplendent purple jacket was gone. I always suspected Jason of the theft, but now that I knew my memory had been tampered with, my suspicions fell on the mysteriously unknown Ursula.

My thumbs danced across the phone screen, forcing the nanobots to do a hard restart. The pharma woman was distracted by the cheese plate, so I surreptitiously pocketed her phone.

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Fleur Elbowed Me

  • by jenthe funniest women alive
  • for ever suggesting such a ridiculous trip
  • highly absorbent pants
  • not enough room for a person underneath
  • built like a municipal building

Tune in next time part 901      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Fleur elbowed me in the ribs and I blurted out an introduction. “Ambassador, I’d like you to meet one of the funniest women alive: Warlord-Apparent Fleur of Contraria.” Normally I would not describe my wife as funny, except for ever suggesting such a ridiculous trip with no preparation, but this was Colloquillia, and it was as traditional as the ambassador’s highly absorbent pants.

Fleur nodded once in acknowledgement, and the ambassador curtsied so low there was not enough room for a person underneath his outsplayed elbows. “I enjoy,” Fleur said, “how this summit facility is built like a municipal building.”

Oh dear. Her Colloquillian was very rusty. I hoped she hadn’t just created an international incident with her silly faux pas.

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“Your New Uniform is in the Wardrobe”

  • by jenbrought into the kicking chamber
  • howling, drooling
  • “We’ve had our fun.”
  • not a cold day by Lapland standards
  • what a beautiful dance

Tune in next time part 895      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Your new uniform is in the wardrobe,” Fleur said. “Dress quickly.”

I groaned. “I’m too hungover to do anything quickly.”

“Then I shall have you brought into the kicking chamber where all the howling, drooling, tantrumming babies are kept.” Fleur gave an evil chuckle. “That should clear your hangover right up.”

With another groan I heaved myself to my feet. “We’ve had our fun.” I stood still until my head stopped spinning. “No need to bring the children into it.”

I showered quickly, shaved, and scraped the eggnog fuzz off my teeth. “What’s the weather like in Colloquillia today?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s not a cold day by Lapland standards, or if it’s as hot as the Sahara, you’re wearing the same uniform in any case.”

Contrarian military uniforms are uniformly outlandish. The higher the rank, the more ridiculous the accessories. Judging by what awaited me in the wardrobe, I’d been promoted again.

I started with the underwear, complete with all the bells and whistles. As I shimmied and tugged everything into place, Fleur said, “What a beautiful dance. If I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”

If it meant not having to put on the rest of this outrageous getup, it might be worth it, monster hangover and all.

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“Of Course They’re Super Flattering!”

  • by jenfeel like an enchanted goddess with a delicious secret
  • glittery bedazzled applique shirts
  • You are your mother’s daughter.
  • tenderly kissing her father-in-law
  • bizarre and frequent tradition

Tune in next time part 891      Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Of course they’re super flattering!” I said of my pleated pants. “They make me feel like an enchanted goddess with a delicious secret.”

Fleur’s eyebrow could not go any higher.

I drunkenly went on. “The only thing more flattering, in fact, is my collection of glittery bedazzled applique shirts.”

My wife sighed. “You are your mother’s daughter. I’ve never known a president to wear more rhinestones. Hell, I’ve never known a country singer to wear more.”

The bubbles popping in my brain made me reckless. “How rude! Are you the kind of girl to be tenderly kissing her father-in-law with that mouth? I know your country has a lot of bizarre and frequent traditions, but c’mon!”

“Just how drunk are you?” Fleur huffed. “Wear the damn pants if you want to. We’ll see how impressed Yolanda and the others are.”

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Accidentally on Purpose

  • by jenI don’t like nose stuff
  • leave her in the darkness
  • much-ballyhooed
  • swung my good right fist full upon the point of his jaw
  • Small Dennis was left extremely disappointed

Tune in next time part 851      Click Here for Earlier Installments

Accidentally on purpose I turned the knob on the soap dispenser instead of the shower. A river of lavender suds spurted out, and Titania and I both sneezed.

“Ugh” she cried. “I don’t like nose stuff! It’s a total turnoff!”

While she continued sneezing, I lurched toward the exit and flipped off the lights, intending to leave her in the darkness — the flowery darkness — while I found a place to write down the much-ballyhooed sauce recipe. Or as much of it as I could remember.

On my way through the bedroom I encountered two men attempting to don a horse costume. (Nigel’s replacement, presumably.) I remembered them from the Academy. They were step-brothers, and both were named Dennis. They bickered constantly over their shared name, and everything else. Why Titania thought it would be a good idea for them to share a single horse costume was beyond me. Right now they were bickering over who would be the creature’s head. I thought Big Dennis would be the better choice, but when he turned to me and snarled, I swung my good right fist full upon the point of his jaw and he went down like a sack of potatoes. Small Dennis was left extremely disappointed. “I wanted to punch him,” he pouted. “I never get to do anything fun.”

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I Caught a Glimpse of Myself in the Mirror

  • by jen“wiggle room”
  • triggered in error by spiders
  • air conditioned, soundproof tent
  • he called it vertigo
  • makes things erotic

Tune in next time part 847      Click Here for Earlier Installments

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and nearly laughed for real. I looked like a contestant on “Wiggle Room” — that old Svenborgian dance competition where the music all sounds like synthesizers triggered in error by spiders in the electronics. The show was filmed in an air conditioned, soundproof tent in the Svenborgian desert so that the music and the screams of the dancers wouldn’t disturb any neighbors. I loved that show, but Jason didn’t. He called it vertigo-inducing, as if that wasn’t the best part.

Titania snapped her fingers, causing the nanobots inhabiting my garments to pulsate in perfect synchronization. “That throbbing makes things erotic, don’t you think?” she purred.

I wasn’t sure what was so erotic about wearing two layers of clothes, but I nodded anyway. Anything to appease the Crystal Clown.

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The Infant Talent Show

  • by jengracefully choreographed free-for-all
  • new and pink and chubby
  • presented with a trashcan lid-sized plate of steamed broccoli
  • For years, I’ve gotten drunk and told the story
  • and gloves without fingers

Tune in next time part 823      Click Here for Earlier Installments

The infant talent show turned out to be a gracefully choreographed free-for-all. First place went to the choreographer, a baby girl all new and pink and chubby. She and her mother, Isolde, were presented with a trashcan lid-sized plate of steamed broccoli and a teeny tiny tiara. There was a lot of grumbling amongst the mothers over the fact that Isolde’s baby won, since the talent show was her idea in the first place, but Isolde claimed that it couldn’t possibly have been rigged due to the sheer number of babies she had and how she couldn’t possibly choose a favorite among them.

For years, I’ve gotten drunk and told the story of my own childhood in a family full of twins and triplets, and how the only way I could find to distinguish myself from Jason was to wear a vest and gloves without fingers while he wore sleeves with no shirt and little socks on his fingers. All this squabbling reminded me of that, and I felt sorry for all the also-rans. Every child needs a time to shine.

“Instead of one big dance number,” I said, “let’s let each baby perform solo!”

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After Smothering the Fire

  • by jenchasm of emptiness in my heart
  • “Here’s the masterpiece,” I said
  • “Of course I can beatbox.”
  • always been moderately (and occasionally very) embarrassed
  • nervous giggling, hiccuping, and sniffling

Tune in next time part 773      Click Here for Earlier Installments

After smothering the fire, Tessa dressed herself in the vestments of a Contrarian Ultra-Druid. You might think I would be disappointed for her not to be naked any more, but that just tells me you are unfamiliar with the ways of the Ultra-Druids. She looked more obscene now than I’d ever seen her, so obscene it turned Pamplemousse into a mountain of nervous giggling, hiccuping, and sniffling absurdity.

Tessa grinned when she saw the looks on our faces. “Let’s go get that ice cream!”

As we strode through the corridors toward the cafeteria we passed another of Jason’s bottle sculptures. I have always been moderately (and occasionally very) embarrassed about my lack of rap skill when compared to my brother, and now I kept encountering evidence that he was also better at making found art. Tessa saw my sour expression and immediately knew what I was thinking.

“Darling,” she said. “Can you still beatbox?”

“Of course I can beatbox.” That was one realm where I outshone my twin. I smiled.

“At the Academy you were working on your beatboxing magnum opus. Do you remember it? Could you perform it now? For me? Please?”

There was no way I could deny her anything, especially when she was dressed like an Ultra-Druid. I cleared my throat. “Here’s the masterpiece,” I said, and launched into it. When I wrote it I’d been inspired by my love for Tessa, however over the years that we’d been apart it had gained resonance in the chasm of emptiness in my heart. I wanted to really wow Tessa, so I gave it my all.

I got so caught up in my magnificent mouth noises that I didn’t notice Fleur until we were right on top of her.

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