When I came up with the name for the blog I was amazed to see it was not already in use. It took a long time before the blog would come up on Google so the other day when I did a search and got hundreds of hits I felt quite pleased at how far the project has come. Admittedly some of the ways people find me can at times be a tad troubling, more so because I wonder what it is I have written which makes my posts appear. Just from this week the following gave me cause for concern; ”Kama sutra course Ireland”, “Coital kryptonite”, “Busty Amateur Girls”, “Transvestites putting face mask on”, ”Cute backside women” (okay I admit it I was actually quite pleased with that one) and most terrifying of all hot leggings. When have I ever said the word leggings and hot in the same sentence? How has my blog become associated with such a statement? The dodgy kryptonite loving log ons I can handle but this? Just to clarify, in my own personal opinion I do not find leggings hot, sexy or cool.
When it came to naming the blog, though I am sure the film Lost In Translation played a part in my thinking until tonight I had never seen it all the way through. An old boyfriend and I got through five minutes of it but it wasn’t his thing and we turned it off soon after it started.
It was tempting to name the blog after the project but when I started it up I didn’t want dresses to be the sole focus. Okay so they’re pretty and don’t get me wrong wearing nearly every one of them has been fun but I wanted it to be more than that. I had several features in mind, including The Trainline of Tyranny, and as I was still writing gig reviews at the time I was fearful of setting myself up as a fashion or style writer with too much to say about pleats, trends and toggles.
There was also the worry that some people might not like dresses and would be put off by a frock related title; for those doubting the existence of such an anomaly see above for existence of coital cryptonite. This is proof if any was needed that there are strange trails of thought at work in the world in which we live.
Every time I get sick I leave in my wake a trail of scribbled notes, diary entries and letters to whoever. When I first got ill once I was better the first thing I tried to do was to make sense of the debris. Sorting through it I expected to find a clue to what the catalyst had been but my investigations never showed up anything more than my mind in a mess and in the end I stopped bothering to sort it through as it was just too sad. I chose Lostinnotation because of those scribbles.
They still sit in storage beside my tin box of love letters and my shoe box full of cards, correspondence and the kind of tokens and trinkets which would excite only me. I hope that one day I will be able to sort through them, as ramblings of the past but at the moment they are my present and looking at them is still too raw.
- My dress has already been criticised today by the head of Harborough police. I saw him on the streets and he said he was not overly keen on my combination of colours; the pink tights I believe were a little too garish for him. I was a little offended and thought about suggesting he focus his attentions on arresting the legging lovelies flashing their front rumps nearby but I was running a little late for work and had to go on my merry way. The dress got me into a rather uncomfortable situation later on the same day when the Liberal Democrat councillors came to call. As a sleep deprived reporter I had not even considered the political connotations of my choice and had to come clean and admit the dress was down to an overall shortage of office wear rather than an attempt to fly the colours of any clan. Today’s dress is a present from my Godmother who bought it from a shop in Harborough called Labels for Less. As I said I was a little but sleep deprived and in a rush to get ready I paired it with Kurt Geiger wedges and police officer displeasing pink tights.