As many of you know, I live in Utah County, where every lady is an accomplished crafter. Utah County is forever stuck in the sixties. Every woman knows how to decoupage a photo frame while knitting a scarf while balancing a Betty Crocker cookbook on her head.
One day I found myself drawn to the Utah County crafter mothership: The Quilted Bear.
Now, I have a serious fondness for the Quilted Bear. And I support local artists who make things and sell them for diddly. But the Quilted Bear has some really crazy shiz.
Behold! LITTLE LADY LINGERIE.
I also understand the temptation of naming your store alliteratively. For awhile I considered calling myself The Cotton Confabulating Consort, but it was too much of a mouthful.
You will note that the right side of the booth has a rack full of lingerie ranging from Luvs Size 4 to Still-Bed-Wetting.
|The colors of a feminine palette.|
But if you seductively cast your eyes leftward, you will see a rack full of larger (tallish? more mature?) lingerie.
I mean, these are not little! These are my size! Or a teenage girl's! Is that the point?! Is this where the matrons of a compound shop when their daughters have their names written in the Joy Book, ready to be married? Creeeeeeeeeeeepy.
|Oh, Mr. Floozy. Step into my chambers.|
It gets even worse. Little Lady Lingerie has custom doll lingerie. For your doll. For you to dress your doll in to match your own lingerie. That you are wearing. When you climb into bed. At night. In lingerie. With your doll.
So, of course, I had to buy my own lacy nightgown with its matching sheer robe.
|This can never be unseen.|
It made a perfect Halloween costume. I scared everybody. Baby Jane has nothing on me.