Time for a new suit because the town needs me to paint it and the attire of the doldrums will not suffice for adventure as boxers below bras allow for over-draft freeze.
The millinery is mending my hat of a miliary pattern, the one that matches my shoes and which also bookends the masterpiece of me: bold solids between bubbly boundaries.
Ah, yes, these pocketless duds definitely define this derrière delightfully; the flaps on those others seemed to be experiencing a severe case of nyctinasty, even though I tried to keep cool as they kept collecting creative creases.
If I am what I wear, then that which is most befitting is each of simple but stylish, natural but nifty, and urbane but arousing—points all met by this benefic blazer-blouse-bloom. ; )