Still rolling around the Veronique challenge

Does Veronique ever relax?

I'm looking at her clothes and she is always in tight clothes.

The "Diamond Dusted" outfit is a gorgeous one, a sort of hostess outfit and the only one I can think of that suggests relaxing.

Is moonlight always cold? That's my question, as the judges on this challenge seemed to take issue with warmer colors as an interpretation of moonlight.

Also, I have jumped more into the concept of moonlight: what do we do in the moonlight, as the entire concept is Joie de Vivre -- taking joy in life. To take joy in moonlight, one should be outside -- or lying in bed with a clear crisp white rectangle of window thrown across the bed by the moon . . . or, like my cats, stalking small living things in the clarity of the light of the moon, the clarity achieved by the contrast of the highlights in the direct light of the moon against the crisp dark shadows thrown against the area lighted, the crispness in direct contrast to the darkness of what is enclosed -- inside buildings, bushes, trees, shelter of all sorts. Wildness is a component of moonlight. . . and Veronique is so controlled, so bustier-ed, so put together.

I am too California for this challenge: I have seen owls take off from the side of the road, bears ignoring me while they pick my trash (mmmmm, cake!), coyotes running silently in a pack down the middle of a mountain road in clear crisp moonlight, a family of raccoons snuffling in the attic and fighting their way across the road -- not fighting cars, fighting each other; raccoons coming to the window to peer in . . . . I have been tossed and tumbled by the Pacific until I was breathless, until I swam to the bottom thinking it was up; caught in rapids in Taroko Gorge, trapped under a capsized raft; pulled to a tantalizing depth, just barely able to touch my toes intermittently to the sand while trying to rescue a non-swimmer pulled out in the Taiwan Straits; listened to the chiming of millions of shells and shards in clear water off the Pescadores . . . . I have run across an entire island, a country, by mistake -- run across an entire island by mistake, yes. I have run the length of three islands and two bridges with mad intent . . . . I have climbed to the source of the Santa Ana river high in the San Bernardino Mountains, where the water bubbles from under a plantain-like leaf, a skunkweed type leaf.

and I wonder what Veronique does to enjoy life?

I want to dress her comfortably for a moonlit evening out -- not without her champagne and friends -- yet in the place I select, in California, she would be out of place dressed as she dresses.

What do people do outdoors in New York -- or is that where her cosmetics company is located?

Isn't she taking some time off at the moment to travel? I believe she is in Paris or on the Riviera.

I have not travelled in Paris, though I spent some time there in the Gare St Lazare -- or another one, en route from Amsterdam before I took the underground to the correct one -- asking every hour then every 15 minutes where I should pick up my train, until the information clerk's shift change and a new clerk told me it was another station and it might not be likely I would make it there in time, but I did, to board the train to Madrid.

On the way south, I was stuck in front a teenaged girl and her mother who boarded somewhere south of Paris, the girl hacking and coughing and honking constantly, never once covering her mouth and never once reminded by her mother to do so. "Oh my God!" I said to myself in alarm and horror at the realization, "Peasants! They still exist! I thought they only existed in van Gogh and Breughel."

On the way back, I met a gracious young man, a French train attendant who carried his own corkscrew, as the train did not, and opened my Spanish wine for me.

veronique - challenge 7 - Clair de lune

Claire de lune led me to Paul Poiret . . .

and I'm going to need to wrestle those bustiers out of Veronique's hands: how one can enjoy life stuffed into a bustier is beyond me. I certainly enjoy seeing her in them; it's time for Veronique to take a break and go out into the countryside or a more relaxed place than she is used to . . . .

The Gene Challenge

Click on photo above to see large view of page submitted as first challenge entry.

I was surprised and dismayed when I first heard of Project Dollway, after all designers had been chosen: my FDQ had lapsed, we hadn't had the dough to resubscribe (though it's my yearly birthday present), and I hadn't dared enter a bookstore during that time, as I invariably come out with a bag full of doll magazines, anime magazines, and manga.

My dismay turned to delight when I found on opening the newly developed Project Dollway pages that people could play along online -- and the deadline was that Friday (2 days away) -- and even more delighted to find that I had not missed the deadline when I sent in a note that I had failed in my mission; the deadline for at home players was Sunday night. In a desperate last-minute participatory gesture, I assembled the above photo and sketch combination: rather poor quality photo image in contrast to my usual standards which have unlimited time as a component. Without a scanner (Windows Vista is incompatible with my working scanner and I still have not tested it and my Nero CD burner out on my old Acer laptop to see if they will fill the gap left by Microsoft's latest "advances." Again, the advance in Microsoft's latest rush to be first is more like the advance copy in the publishing world, still in need of some proof-reading and redaction, usually known as beta-testing in the computing world. Get used to it, I have a stack of soapboxes under my computer that spill out without the least provocation. Perhaps I should color-code all soapbox-related sections in soap sales orange [see Vance Packard's The Hidden Persuaders for what this references.]) I had no way to get a clear image of the sketches and had to photograph them, at night on top of it all, as with the Gene. This accounts for the yellowish tone of the photo -- not bad for the means employed.

I already had Gene dressed up in her chinchilla jacket, waiting for clothing, so I took her pic and sketched, based on fabric I have available, her red carpet outfit.

Gene said that it really doesn't matter what you wear when you have a chinchilla jacket: it's a perfect last-minute touch of elegance when you hear about a party late and need to make an appearance; in this case, she had been wearing Mel Odom's oh-so-perfect Hollywood tap pants and top under her chinchilla for a while. We decided that a quick hakama in moleskin and a leotard top would be the perfect last-minute formal attire in case she had to remove her jacket inside, and pretended that she actually had those in her closet.