I have a long standing and well deserved reputation for wearing interesting colors. I also have a reputation of equally long standing, even better deserved, for pack-rat-itis. Both are inherited, but I digress.
Back when I was in college, there was a mill-end fabric store in Franklin, Indiana which was much beloved of us SCAdian types. Fascinating fabrics of unusual or historically inspired prints, velvets and wools, all to be had at ridiculously reasonable prices, what’s not to like? On one pilgrimage, one of the other women found some rasberry pink bonded wool and called us over to see the example of fabric which was on sale for fifty cents a yard for a reason. To her horror, I grabbed the bolt and had it measured, then bought the whole five yards available. We took it home, and no more was said.
The winter holiday party was about six weeks later. I had a package from the woman in question, which turned out to be a length of white fur trim. On the card she had written “To the only person I know who would wear this color… and get away with it. You Know Who You Are!”
Oh, the fabric? I made a jumper I can wear either as garb or for everyday and a work-appropriate blazer out of it. And the reason I thought of the story is that I can fit into them again. And besides, I just found the white fur trim.
Obviously suffering from fuschia shock.