Desertsong/2

A Knight Rides forth in Armor Lorraine always knew what to do. So did I on my better days. We had to attend the community bar-b-que, so I got to watch Lorraine put on her armor. All women wear armor. It comes in various styles and of course a whole rainbow of colors. There are types of layer with some layers serving more than one purpose. The first layer takes care of the skin and body, comforting it, caressing it (Remember women are often very uncomfortable in their skins, and many are cold blooded.), keeping it warm, protecting it from prying eyes. Think cotton panties and brasieres, undershirts, long underwear (Yes, they make this for women, in soft, thin, cotton knits of course.) etc... Next comes the layer that improves the fit of their clothes. This can be a brasiere that pushes up and supports, a girdle, but also stockings, tights, slips, camisoles, all of which help a skirt or dress "sit better." The same works for women wearing slacks. The last level of armament is adornment. It is clothing and face paint, skirts, blouses, slacks, make up, shoes. It must present the wearer's personality through interesting textures. It must be interesting with a new set of colors every day and the colors rotated, and the colors must go and play in interesting and subtle ways that flatter the wearer's skin or enhance her or do something for her. Think magic if you will. Girls begin learning "putting clothes together" before they are five years old. I know this now because Subi who had no brothers has sometimes discussed clothing with my oldest son. If you are in the right mood, watching a woman prepare her armor and put it into place is fascinating. A woman in a panty girdle, brasiere, and camisole, sitting astride a vanity stool contemplating her hair is NOT wasting time. Get that out of your head! She's contemplating the next step, what will go outside the layer she has so carefully laid. In this case, Lorraine wanted a particular pair of white sandals (She has several of them, to coordinate with different outfits and send different, subtle signals) that had migrated to the back of the closet. She sprung into action to find them and put them on seeing if they were undamaged. Not everything survives a move, and these sandals traveled west in a moving crate. Satisfied, I watched Lorraine slip into a white pair of shear, form fitting pants called clam diggers. The pants were white which meant all the under things beneath them were also white. "This is my first chance to wear white this summer," Lorraine burbled as she selected a blouse of soft, somewhat iridescent and somewhat smokey light blue with a pattern textured into the material to make the shine ripple in dots. A man would have found the pattern a distraction, but women prized such details. She put on the blouse, opening two buttons to show a sliver of tanned chest, not really cleavage. Lorraine is just not big enough for that, not that she doesn't have a decent, and rather pretty set of breasts. Styles that might be immodest on larger women, are tasteful on her. She has a good figure especially when well armored. "There," she modeled herself before the vanity mirror. "What do you think William?" "You are dressed to kill," I smiled. "What are you wearing?" I sighed. I did not have to think of armor. My skivvies were reasonably clean. I glanced at my shirt. I guessed I needed a clean one. Did I have a clean one. I had brought my work shirts, or rather had them shipped on the van, and luckily one of them was pressed. I decided I did not need a tie, and a pair of chinos would work fine. As for shoes, my brown ones did not look too bad. "Do you have any brown socks?" Lorraine's question floated at me. Lorraine was in my sock drawer like a flash. Of course, socks, coordinate with pants and shirt to show the world, and socks, clean ones protect the feet from blisters, level 1, and the shoes fit better, level 2. OK, I got it. Lorraine was in my sock drawer in a flash, pulling out a pair of medium brown socks. "These will look better, try them." She did not bother to explain that they would set off my shoes and pants, as if I wanted to do such a thing. I put them on anyway. We had a function to attend. It was time for the Bachmans to face the world! Douglas Bachman LRS Ranch Rural Route 6A Rose Rock, Nevada USA