Hello, blogosphere. I can’t believe it’s been nearly a month since my last post, but Kevin and I have been pre-occupied with Kevin’s latest and most ridiculous idea (aka, my newest and biggest life-draining, time-sucking chore): buying a house. But more on that later. Something else is long overdue.
Kevin maliciously berated the dress I wore when we met in his first and only post–which, to me, read more like a call to arms. So this is my retaliation. Here is me in the notorious dress:
I had to scour the closet and dust it off a bit because it has been living in secret ever since Kevin shared his true feelings. It has been downgraded from a “super-cute, multi-functional sundress” to a “sometimes-appropriate work dress.” The way he talks about it, you would think the dress had a scarlet letter “A” sewn into its pattern; on the contrary, Kevin thinks the dress is the living embodiment of the scarlet letter itself. (I guess you could call the pattern a Hester Prynnt??) (Sidebar: Kevin didn’t get this pun, and that makes me very sad, which is why I added a link.)
It’s at least a little cute, isn’t it? Plus, I was 10 pounds heavier when Kevin met me, so I filled it out even more (read: bigger boobs). When paired with heels, it makes my legs look amazing.
And for the record, my grandma’s couches are covered in purple velvet, not a pattern. (Really, Grandma? I’m proud you broke the old-lady-couch-print stereotype, but what were you thinking?) I think a purple, velvet dress would have been a lot more visually insulting than this cute, floral print, am I right? And hotter, in the temperature way.
If Kevin hates floral-print dresses, I really don’t know why he initially found and continues to find me attractive. I must have a super pretty face and/or be the coolest person alive, because before he came into my life (and wardrobe…and re-did my wardrobe), my closet housed a slew of floral-print dresses with pockets. It’s just what I like. (I also like skinny jeans, but Kevin has no complaints about those. And really, would any guy?) To his credit, he has taught me that I can like and buy other types of clothing too (and I have), but I’m still a sucker for any dress with pockets. (In fact, any dress without pockets might as well ship itself back to Indonesia and stay there until it learns its lesson and gets some pockets sewn in.)
The day we met, Kevin was wearing Lucky jeans and a white Adidas pullover jacket. There is nothing wrong with this combo (or maybe I’m not as judgmental as he is), but it’s easy to criticize others’ wardrobes when all you have to do to be attractive is pair jeans with anything (except this shirt). And Kevin doesn’t have hair, so that is one less thing he has to consider when readying himself. Standards for guys are so frustratingly low. At least Kevin’s wardrobe includes more regular, adult shirts than got-this-for-free-at-a-college-sporting-event-in-my-early-twenties shirts. That sealed the deal for me.
Outtakes: Trying to Take a Picture of the Dress
I asked Kevin to take a picture of me in the dress. I just needed a simple photo; I wasn’t really concerned with lighting or background. This is a blog post, not glamour shots. (Did your mother ever make you do these? Mine did.) Here is the first photo:
Pretty bad, but not terrible. Instead of just adjusting the lighting, Kevin decided we needed to go outside, in the 5:00 PM setting sun, and take more photos. Kevin’s photography skills are so great that he made me face the sun so that I would be fully lit. Who cares if my face is pretty or even bearable to look at. Here is the rest of the terrible shoot:
Staring into the Sun: A photographic journey by Kevin H.
We aren’t the world’s most photogenic people, but hopefully this isn’t indicative of what our engagement or wedding photos will look like (when we get around to scheduling those….).