A bit of noir

This was for my detective fiction class this semester. We were supposed to write in the voice of Raymond Chandler:

"The chimes rang in the chipper sing-song of a battered old parakeet, and the heavy oak door creaked as it admitted the occupants with a blast of October rain. The smell of damp earth mixed with the heady aroma of strong coffee, and the chill made me wrap my fingers around my mug tighter. The couple clung to each other and laughed at the grand adventure of their own love story. I hunkered back into my seat. Not my client then. The room was busy for the middle of the afternoon; I wondered what it was about Wednesdays that attracted rain and misfortune. The chimes struck again but stopped abruptly like everything else in the room. A tall drink of a woman walked into the coffee shop desperate and fierce and bracing herself for trouble as she casually withdrew a gun from her handbag. It was a good thing I was thirsty."

A beautiful suit...

I love this suit. I love it because it is so classically beautifully simple. It is a suit for a woman and not just a woman pretending to dress like a man (which is how most women's suits are tailored). It is understated. The woman who wore this, wore it at that crucial interview, the first big presentation she had to give, her husband's inauguration (it was the 60s lets be realistic), or may be even someone's funeral. It has spent most of its life carefully protected in the closet so that it could be brought out precisely when its own particular magic was needed. It never detracted from the fearsome power of the woman that wore it. Its elegance is easily underestimated so that the real woman who wore it could shine through. It is just as relevant 50 years later as it was in the 60s. It is a solemn statement but such a powerful one. I want to pretend that the woman who wore this dress passed it on to her granddaughter to wear to her first interview and maybe even her own inauguration. This is why I love beautiful clothes - because the truly well-designed pieces will live lives of their own and allow the wearer find the truth of their own story.