Saturday, September 6, 2008

Victoria in Ten Pants

As of yesterday Phil and I finished proof reading the lettered pages for Labor Days. After corrections and a bit more fussing over at Oni, they'll upload the book, which should be designed, layed out and ready to go to the printers.

For now here's a bit of fun with Victoria's weekly wardrobe.

Monday: Tight Black Stretch Pants. Whenever she puts them on she's compelled to high kick. Partly show off, partly to enjoy the freedom. She calls these ones her "stretchies."

Tuesday: Grey Dress Pants, loose at the bottom (but not flair, because c'mon…). She can't high kick in these one, but after a day of stretch pants she needs to feel a little dressy, and they certainly don't inhibit her ability to punch, grapple, or otherwise detain.

Wednesday: New Jeans. A little tight in the hip, but a perfect thigh fit. These are new for the fall.

Thursday: Old Jeans. The pair she was wearing the first time she went on special assignment. They are covered in faded stains; vomit, chocolate, blood, and coffee. She views the stains with nostalgia.

Thursday Night: Used Leather. Thursday night she walks to the local pub to have a drink and a cigar. Nobody bothers her there and she doesn’t bother anybody. It's just her and the pants.

Friday: Stripey Pajama Pants. Friday she does nothing but watch television with her brother. Her brother changes moods, personalities and sentiments approximately 2.5 times as many times as she changes channels.

Saturday: Black Billowy Skirt with Shorts Under It. Saturday she's out on dangerous business all day long. She wears the skirt her father gave her on her 16th birthday. She wonders if it was her mothers.

Sunday: Full Business Suit. Sunday she makes the round with her father and a number of investors. They review treatments, they gossip about patients and they have a supper of sandwiches. She is bored.

Sunday Night: Black Sweat Pants. Sunday night, after they leave and after her brother is asleep, she curls up in the corner of her room and just listens to the building, trapped somewhere between resignation and a remorse she can't name.

Monday, again: Stretchies. She wakes up with a smile and a high kick, lights up a fine fine cigar and heads off into another week.
written by PMG