I’m a big fan of concealing doll heads behind drywall. The local hobby shop used to sell half-heads (just the face and neck, including eyes), so that was my go-to.
It was also a hard to fix drywall job, so it looks a little janky. It’s almost guaranteed that the next owner rips out that section and finds her.
I’ve always preferred skirts to pants, precisely because they’re less restrictive to movement. I’m not sure why, but the comment was always, “I’m not sure you’d be able to do this while wearing a skirt.” It seems like people who haven’t worn them habitually don’t know how they work.
Worst case: I fall down and you can see my knickers. Well that’s why I wear the knickers. And in nearly a half-century, I can think of maybe 2 times that’s happened. Both times I was sprinting madly to catch a bus and both times were due to my shoes and/or bad decisions.
Field hockey and lacrosse are both traditionally played in kilts.
Some other objections:
Need to don some Tyvek coveralls for work? It’s really no problem with a basic skirt. You just hike it up a bit. Those suits are baggy and everything fits. You also avoid the discomfort of two layers of leg fabric.
Cold weather? Tights are great, as are thigh high socks. And boots. All of these also look cute.
Oh, and packing for vacation? I can pack 3-4 skirts for every pair of jeans. It’s just a simple cloth tube which folds down to nothing.
Presumably it’s the same reason that I couldn’t find a way to close my bank account (in person, at the fucking bank) in 1998. And presumably it’s the same reason that my elderly parents can’t get their Medicare supplemental insurance agent to close out their account prior to their move to another state, where that insurance won’t be accepted.
You’re a customer. They love you. Reasons.
I’ve become attached to this eldritch abomination.
Easy. It’s a dried and shellacked squid that has been posed in an artful, somehow bipedal and menacing position. I call it the creeping horror and keep it in an old wooden box.
Not really my taste, but it was a gift.
Well that’s terrifying.
My old vacuum bags were meant to be tossed, but I just emptied it and put it back because $.
I didn’t really expect anyone to know that, which was sort of the joke. He was very famous in his time, but by now it’s a bit of a deep cut.
Artie Shaw was a clarinetist who ran a jazz band. In addition to that, he was also quite the weirdo. Womanizer, liked math a lot (like more than is natural), was an expert marksman who was nationally ranked in that sort of thing, and really into fly fishing. Also, currently, very dead. And that’s good because otherwise he’d be 114.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Artie_Shaw
here’s a sample of his work https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_v3GY3ZqdM
Shock: I’m not really Artie Shaw.
This is a really nice idea. Which is refreshing, because my go-to is always something mildly disturbing but not too scary or criminal.
If I were going the wholesome route, I’d add a paper note to the USB or other digital storage, though. If I were to find a LaserDisc from 1990, that would be more or less unreadable without expending some significant effort.
But maybe future folk will have magical devices that can read cassettes, 8-tracks, or whatever.