The sum of this weeks parts:

Project birthday has been fully executed. The Most Special Specialist received his cake yesterday evening. Unfortunately the cocoa specialist stencil did not survive the trip, but the important thing is that he enjoyed it. The pinup picture book is en route to Missouri, sent out Wednesday morning. I opted for the +70 cent tracking, which is kind of fun. I get to follow the cross country journey of my knicker-clad self. So far, I've been to Nashua New Hampshire, and Kansas City. I estimate that I will be arriving in Fort LW tomorrow. I had a good time Tuesday night putting the final touches on the album, although seeing the physical prints made me feel a bit nervous/awkward about the whole ordeal. You can't press delete on a glossy print, and you can't guarantee that one lucky(ish) photo technician in Delaware didn't have a really, really good Monday evening. They've seen stranger things though, I'm sure. Right? I'm opting to not think about Mr. John Doe photo technician any further.
After much rifling through my craft boxes, I used some crumpled up metallic silver stock paper I bought at some point, for some purpose which I forget entirely. The beat-ness of them worked in that it added dimension. I love diy present wrapping...this project got me all excited for Christmas.

Moving on...the rest of this week. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday were gym days. Last week I decided I liked the Thursday-Friday off schedule. This is based on the fact that come Thursday, I automatically enter I-quit-this-bitch-mode. However, going three days in a row this week wore me out. I'm blaming it on lack of iron (anemia is a BITCH). Although I have noted a difference in my abdominal pudge, the hourglass is making a slow but steady comeback. Pants are fitting better, all is well in the world. Or everything was, until I made that apple cranberry bread pudding at work on Thursday, and had two hearty portions...I know what goes in that stuff because I put it there...it's sad that I can't be ignorant to the dark side of such pleasures. It was so incredibly worth it though. As will be the salt and vinegar Cape Cod chips I'm going to eat after this post. Don't judge, I'm pms-ing. Priorities shift during this time of great need.

As a result of post-work gym sessions and the resulting switch from am to pm showers, I was able to capture rare images of my hair left to its own devices, being too lazy to dry and set it. This sounds trivial, and it is. However, I've been straightening my hair for so long that my co-workers were shocked last week to discover that it was naturally curly...or insane. However you put it, my hair is the embodiment of "amok" without the steady-handed application of 370 degrees farenheit (recently downgraded from 420 degrees). I've been a slave to the iron for a decade now. To the appallment of many I utilized an actual iron...as in clothing iron for years. My hair was mad long and the surface space of an iron allowed me to knock that shit straight in five minutes flat, as opposed to 20...I was just using logic. Any-who-cares, as a follow up to my naked face from a few posts ago, here is my god-given hair, shot in a relatively flattering way. I think I need to learn how to love it. I remember when I first became aware of my awkward hair, in middle school. I went to the salon with my mother for a regular cut and asked how I could make my hair smooth like all the other girl's...we went home with Paul Mitchell Awapuhi spray, which failed to produce results. Jackie...coming to terms with her hair since 1995.
It's like an illegitimate child kept in the closet under the stairs for ten years...kind of hard to deal with.

Anyway, where was I?
While I've devised a solid plan to save money for Policecop's return, after gas and the necessities I have a few bucks that I can have fun with every week. Pleasure purchase of this week: Vintage 70's Gucci (?). Found at Salvation Army for $15. I hadn't been thrifting since before Halloween, and for a lack of better ideas yesterday I figured I'd just go and poke around. I walked straight into this piece as if I knew it was there waiting for me...
After extensive research, I still can't figure out if this bag is the real deal or not. The label inside indicates it's from the Gucci Accessory Collection. This series came about in the 1970's, sold through high-end department stores.
The stitching is impeccable, the lining flawless. My points of concern are as follows:
1- While I could have sworn I had seen this version of the monogram before, I can't find it anywhere on the web. I don't know exactly how to describe it in a search engine, but still...
2-The fabric of the red/green stripe is too thick. Not tight enough to be a real Gucci.
3-While being real leather, the strap is not thick/sturdy enough to be authentic.

At this point, I'm atleast 70% convinced that this is not a real Gucci. HOWEVER:
If it's not the real thing, it is a fact that this is one of the very first Gucci knock-offs...making it approximately 40 years old. I don't know about you, but I find this incredibly neat, and fashionably historic.
If I were extremely serious about this business, I could bring it to the Boston Gucci boutique and have them analyze it for me, but I think I'm all set with that. Having some vapid, high-end sales girl tell me, "this is not real..." is not on my list of wants. I'd rather wonder about the possibilities...
1:The Socialite who bought this purse on a whim and forgot about it entirely. This explains why the lining is impecable. She thought about using it once, but got distracted.
2: Gift to a celebrity. They get so many, value is distorted.
3: A Las Vegas Showgirl knows that Gucci will up her status, she fights nails, teeth, bone, blood...starting off fake doesn't matter, someday she will be bathed in authentic Gucci...

And so on and so forth...if anyone can provide any type of information regarding this mysterious case of vintatge Gucci, please comment with abandon.

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