Icarus of Love

Gucci red chiffon dress.

I attended my first fashion show last night - the Nordstrom Designer Preview.  Yes, Seattle and fashion may seem an oxymoron, but still, I find myself at Pier 91 rubbing elbows with Seattle society in the know.   A floor full of women surveying the boutiques and each others' frocks.  The bar served only non-teeth staining drinks - cocktails, bubbly, white wine, but no red wine.   Anemic bites of appetizers to please those with eating disorders (majority).  Even the desserts after the show were miniature. A melon ball scoop of sorbet on a pygmy cone; needless to say I had to take at least two to satiate my Goliath sweet tooth.  The runway show itself was actually decent, exhibiting many wearable trends but affordable is another story. At the dating pace I'm going, is this what I'll be like in my forties and fifties? Single professional with disposable income to spend on shows and useless gowns hoping no one would notice my Restylane plumped Marionette lines and DSLs?

Well, there is a guy with whom I am smitten but prevent myself from attachment because intuition and intel tell me he is not emotionally available and probably may not ever be. We have an unsaid mutual sensual enjoyment but I still wonder and hope for more and what could be. We have such similar styles and tastes, great chemistry, work well in the kitchen together. I am the Icarus of love, one should not desire for what one cannot have.   Still, isn't part of the fun in the wanting and not the eventual getting? 

I am the one who is not ready.  Not ready to give up my wings of wax...not yet.  Just want to get a bit closer to the sun.