codenameruffledparasol: (Default)
Though the dreariness of winter reminded Alexia deeply and profoundly of home in ways she was uncomfortable with, that was not the reason that Alexia found herself uncertain, if not pessimistic, about the coming spring and warmer months.

She found herself with her fingers pressed gently to her mouth as she strolled down a street downtown, lined with department stores. The window displays featured largely two things, both of which Alexia found at turns scandalous and intriguing.

The first was the bathing suits. Alexia still considered bathing in the sea to largely be a man's pleasure occupation. Which did not necessarily mean that she would not do so. She hadn't had the chance, and certainly, she would not ever wear a bikini. No! Definitely not.

The second were the athletic clothing, most in colors Alexia was fairly sure did not occur anywhere in nature. Now, Alexia was a fan of walking for health and pleasure. She did much of it, as she was doing today.

But she had not ever considered a separate wardrobe specifically for light exercise.

"I wonder how much it would cost?" she wondered aloud. Leaning closer, she checked one of the price tags. Over a hundred dollars for a pair of athletic tights (yoga pants, they call them, and Alexia surely could not imagine a yogi would ever wear such a thing.)

Over a hundred dollars.

Alexia became altogether too agitated at that.

"They must think all women truly stupid. Especially the wealthy ones."
codenameruffledparasol: (a suicide i didn't invite)
Alexia was eager to see Biffy. She always enjoyed paying him a visit -- though she often preferred he visit her, if only because Alexia, unlike Biffy, lived alone.

Yet she had something of particular import to convey to him. She was employed.

Which was quite shocking, actually, in Alexia's opinion, but the sort of shocking that gave her a quiet thrill. It was a feeling very much like the one she got when she firmly disobeyed her dear husband.

She wrapped thrice on the door to Biffy's flat with a hand in a delicate leather glove. The knock was not delicate. Like Alexia's voice, her knock demanded the appropriate amount of attention.

Profile

codenameruffledparasol: (Default)
Alexia Maccon née Tarabotti

March 2016

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
1314151617 1819
20212223242526
27282930 31  

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 18th, 2025 10:59 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios