Mauvaise Chance, Number 6
Laura awoke that morning, feeling decidedly strange. Not
that she could put her finger on it, of course, but something
felt...off. Her eyes drifted toward the bathroom, the varying shades
of black, white, and gray seeming completely ordinary. Her hand went
immediately to her hair. Of course! That was it -- she'd completely
forgotten make an appointment for Theodoric's this afternoon. She made
a mental note to stop by and see if they could work her in.
A little while later, having finished her hearty breakfast of
pancakes, bacon, eggs, orange juice and coffee, and having listened to
morning serials, Laura made her way to the bathroom to shower. That
done, she wrapped herself in a long, terrycloth robe and stood before
her closet, index finger pressed to her lips as she considered what
she would wear today.
Gone were the familiar pants suits she usually wore, along with the
new pair of denim jeans she had purchased weeks before; they had been
replaced with an almost unending supply of chic 1950s dresses and
skirts. Not that she noticed, of course. To her, it all appeared
incredibly...normal, as though she opened her closet to anachronistic
clothing every day. She glanced at the tags, furrowing her brow as she
noted the sizes seemed to be much larger than she remembered. Maybe
just grapefruit tomorrow morning! She shook her head as she
reached for a fetching gold suit.
As she did so, her eyes landed on the gorgeous gown she would be wearing to the formal that
evening. It had inexplicably replaced the silk, embroidered pant suit
she had set aside only the previous day. Not that she noticed, of
course.
Stuffing her hair into a smooth chignon -- with a little help from
copious amounts of her new Helene Curtis hairspray (with plenty of
CFCs) -- she then moved to the living room to prepare to leave. She
placed a perfectly-fitted pillbox hat atop her head, then primly
slipped her hands into a pair of perfectly-matched gold kid leather
gloves. To everyone else, they of course appeared various shades of
grey, but Laura knew what color they were. And she was pleased to be
making such a fashion statement.
She checked her appearance one last time in the mirror. She smiled,
satisfied with what she saw. She wasn't exactly hep, but she certainly
did look charming. Now, if she could find a break in the storms, she
might be able to run her errands without mussing it up.
[OOC: Okay, so Laura likely doesn't know what "square" or "hep"
means, but hey... what's a black-and-white episode without some corny
Ozzie-and-Harriet-like dialogue/inner monologue? =) ]
that she could put her finger on it, of course, but something
felt...off. Her eyes drifted toward the bathroom, the varying shades
of black, white, and gray seeming completely ordinary. Her hand went
immediately to her hair. Of course! That was it -- she'd completely
forgotten make an appointment for Theodoric's this afternoon. She made
a mental note to stop by and see if they could work her in.
A little while later, having finished her hearty breakfast of
pancakes, bacon, eggs, orange juice and coffee, and having listened to
morning serials, Laura made her way to the bathroom to shower. That
done, she wrapped herself in a long, terrycloth robe and stood before
her closet, index finger pressed to her lips as she considered what
she would wear today.
Gone were the familiar pants suits she usually wore, along with the
new pair of denim jeans she had purchased weeks before; they had been
replaced with an almost unending supply of chic 1950s dresses and
skirts. Not that she noticed, of course. To her, it all appeared
incredibly...normal, as though she opened her closet to anachronistic
clothing every day. She glanced at the tags, furrowing her brow as she
noted the sizes seemed to be much larger than she remembered. Maybe
just grapefruit tomorrow morning! She shook her head as she
reached for a fetching gold suit.
As she did so, her eyes landed on the gorgeous gown she would be wearing to the formal that
evening. It had inexplicably replaced the silk, embroidered pant suit
she had set aside only the previous day. Not that she noticed, of
course.
Stuffing her hair into a smooth chignon -- with a little help from
copious amounts of her new Helene Curtis hairspray (with plenty of
CFCs) -- she then moved to the living room to prepare to leave. She
placed a perfectly-fitted pillbox hat atop her head, then primly
slipped her hands into a pair of perfectly-matched gold kid leather
gloves. To everyone else, they of course appeared various shades of
grey, but Laura knew what color they were. And she was pleased to be
making such a fashion statement.
She checked her appearance one last time in the mirror. She smiled,
satisfied with what she saw. She wasn't exactly hep, but she certainly
did look charming. Now, if she could find a break in the storms, she
might be able to run her errands without mussing it up.
[OOC: Okay, so Laura likely doesn't know what "square" or "hep"
means, but hey... what's a black-and-white episode without some corny
Ozzie-and-Harriet-like dialogue/inner monologue? =) ]