Victor and I ventured back into Chinatown today, this time with Angela in tow, to watch the performances at Trafalgar Square. Chinese dancers and opera singers who can hit notes you and I can only dream of. The bits we actually managed to see were pretty cool, gorgeously synchronised dancing girls in green long-sleeved dresses swishing across the stage like reeds in the wind, a downright gorgeous male ballet dancer in a solo act, and a fifty-something lady opera singer - and lion dancers. If it hadn't been for the several thousand other members of the audience who prevented you from walking at anything faster than a crawl, or the narky crowd control people with earpieces and high visibility vests who say things like, "Can you move over there, please?! Thank you" it might actually have been a downright pleasant experience. (I responded to the crowd control lady with "No, thank you" - then had to duck and hide behind Victor - not easy! He's shorter than me! - when she whipped her head around. Ah sarcasm, it will be my undoing.)
Check it out, I match the decor! I should've worn that blue eye thing on my head or something, to make my outfit less bland. This close-up is intended to show off the ruffle detail on my shoulder, which was the main reason I bought this shirt. I also have it in red, sad little creature that I am.
Here's one with the trusty black cardi as well, since I wore that on top for most of the day, and only took it off to show off the cute shoulder bits.
On a weirdly funny side note, I have noticed that the elbows of this top are starting to wear thin - and fair enough my elbows are shaped a bit funny/pointier than most peoples', because the bones are sort of placed strangely. (That makes me sound like some sort of mutant! They're just slightly odd.) But I'm not one of those ambitious go-getter "people with sharp elbows", right? So it's not like it's an appropriate metaphor. I think this says more about quality control at Zara than it says about me being a pushy little cow. Definitely.
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