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one-of-us-must-be-crazy · 5 years

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Happy Christmas, this two paragraph ficlet turned into an actual one shot. Have some fluff.

“It’s enough for me that it’s a nice day out, and we can go for a walk when I get home from work.”

That was what she had said. But this was her birthday. Technically, given how many deep-space missions she’s carried out, she was closer to thirtieth than she was to her phsyical twenty-fifth. Time, space...of all the things that have ceased to make any kind of logical sense in their little pocket universe, age is the least of concern. She’s lived so many years longer than he has, and yet he’s the one that looks older than her; enough so that they sometimes get strange looks even in places where no one would ever guess he was a synthetic.

Perhaps he could have taken her to dinner again. True, once a week or so he’d insist on taking her out, sometimes to a dive bar that she’d been familiar with when she had been living on her own, sometimes someplace nicer and she’d grumble about having to dress up. There had to be something better than just taking a walk with her. She goes for a run every morning, and for as advanced as he is, anything more than a light jog is...clumsy at best, and he stays home. So it’d be nice, to see her trail with her, come home to a pot of tea, maybe a nice hot bath...

Still, he already spent two hours making a cake for her, and was rather proud of just how machine-made-perfect it looked. There were some nice perks to being a soulless, mobile computer.

Yet it wasn’t enough. She deserves the world and a half, and she’s so practical she never buys herself anything that isn’t a necessity. Or broken; she buys antique electronics and mechanical toys to repair or remake as a hobby, but it doesn’t cost much. And was he supposed to pick out for a person that had very little in common with him, and showed very little interest in anything gift-worthy?

She liked to read, he’d seen her with old paperbacks, and even a couple newer titles, but it was only at the end of the day or early in the morning.

Ripley sits at the kitchen bar, back from her run, hair damp despite the cool morning, and she sips at the tea he had made for her while she was out...convincing her to ease up on the coffee wasn’t easy, but pu’erh had enough caffeine to sustain her, and she didn’t put sugar in it so...small victories.... Her book is open and leaning against the potted cactus she brought home for him after he killed their violets. She’s at peace, finally, and if he’s honest with himself, and if he listens to her and believes her, he has a lot to do with that fact.

Maybe he could go out and get champagne. Put it on ice, light some candles around their bath and get her roses, maybe he could...It isn’t as if it’s something we don’t do normally, he thought. Ripley’s interest in him lessened some in the last couple of months, but he had a strong suspicion that their high-frequency rendezvous was more of a coping mechanism for her than about affection. An hour, give or take, of getting to forget who they were, or to only think of them and not of anything that has happened before or after that moment. He couldn’t blame her for it, but it did make romance less...novel of a thing to do on her birthday.

Christopher didn’t poke through her belongings so much as curiously examine them. Her workroom had every small tool she could ever want or need. In the bathroom vanity none of her items were low, and she did indulge in scented bath salts now that WY was picking up their bills. There was even a small vial of perfume in the dresser drawer, and a single black nightgown she swore she only had because it was soft and cool to wear in the summer, but as he had witnessed, if it was too warm out she’d just go to bed in her underwear and a loose cami....she did like wearing it, he learned quickly, on nights he had to spend hours working on his programming, or on physical circuitry with his skin opened on his core. He didn’t like her seeing him like that, and usually locked himself into the office until whatever needed done was done. He’d walk out to see her, in the black night dress in the dark on their couch, with her hair down and smiling up at him “Want to sit with me?” And yet clothing of that variety didn’t seem to appeal much to her when he asked her about it.

She had graph paper and lined paper, a compass, drawing tools, everything she needed for mechanical design and work. She had a plush animal of some kind that had been either so loved or so abused that it’s repairs didn’t allow for species recognition; and she had a plush bear in a space suit he bought her on one of their earlier ‘dates.’ The hideous art print in the living room; a few old posters and post cards. They had bedding, and a spare set of sheets. Ripley always said that there was nothing else they needed.

He thinks over the other clothing she has; work clothes, one gaudy red dress she got becuase she thought he’d like to see her in something nicer on a date, and nicer (less oil stained) jeans and shirts. A small makeup kit, though he rarely sees her in more than eyeliner (she wears concealer under her eyes, he can see it, but she denies it and he’s wise enough of human socialization at this point to not call her out on her lie). She even had a cheap pair of stud earrings she would wear once in---

That was the only jewelry she had.

Maybe...

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The jewelry shop in the city center would have been his first choice to find something for her at; but even the cheapest items there were more than she would ever allow him to spend on her. The display of engagement rings in it’s window was also...tempting wasn’t quite the word, ‘taunting’ might have a better connotation of the situation. It hasn’t been four months you’ve been with her... Then again, they were living together, and functioned, for all he was aware of, like a human partnership. If that was even what she considered them.

There was another place, closer to the tourist traps, that sold....well, it was still nice things but it was the kind of nice that was sold alongside postcards and guidebooks to Luna. Amanda called the shops on that side of the city a ‘kitschy boardwalk.’ And yet, half her antiques and a few posters, and some of her records came from this part of the colony. She’d appreciate it.

An array of charms and earrings and rings shaped like the original moon lander, no. The little vintage space shuttle designs were sweet, and getting closer... But not really her either. The silver plated Weyland-Yutani logo charm was absolutely out of the question.

Samuels remembers her humming once, he’d woken up her up from a nightmare, she had been shaking. He held her tightly and she quietly hummed the lines of a lullaby, of Lucky Star. That was months ago now and though she didn’t care much for pet names, privately that was what he thought of her: a lucky star, a unique one-in-billions event that everything orbited around.

A gold star in the back of the case of necklace pendants glittered; hardly half an inch tall, and on a plain black cord, it matched her personality--at least to his understanding of it.

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“I told you not to do anything,” she said, looking the lowered lights and the cake sitting on their counter bar.

“Hello to you too,” he tried to cross the room to kiss her cheek, but she had already made it to the cake in three long strides.

“I’m sorry--but I meant it you didn’t have to...”

“It’s nothing, really. Normally I try to have dinner ready for you anyway so--”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Didn’t we agree, luv,” he tested just how upset she was by reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear--she didn’t stop him, so she couldn’t be too annoyed, “That if you were going to back to work, I could take care of household duties?”

“I know but... You’re not my housekeeper.”

“All I did was make the cake--” Amanda froze entirely and turned to face him again.

“Whoa, no wait, wait. You made that?”

“Yes?”

“You can do that? Chris how, this is--”

“It wasn’t hard.”

Amanda inspected the perfect flowers and flawless icing on it, the exact lettering ‘happy birthday Amy’ in curling script. “You’re full of little surprises aren’t you?”

“If you say so. I forgot about dinner I’m afraid,”

“Oh so you aren’t perfect,” she smiled at him, loving the expression on his face that told her if he could blush he would be. You, she thought to herself, are absolutely getting lucky tonight.

“Far from it, dear.” It earned him a light kiss before she went for the phone on the wall, “If you’re going to order in, I already called.”

“That vegetarian place you see fit to call ‘take out’ or--”

“The pizza place that you see fit to refer to as food. That one.”

“Okay, so you are perfect,” she said, only half joking as she reached for the silverware drawer; he knew that she would try to cut a slice of cake before dinner arrived. “Chris?”

“Yes?”

“Why is there a present where the big knife should be?”

“Becuase it’s your birthday?”

“I told you--”

“When’s the last time someone did something for you on this day? The last time you actually...enjoyed it? You said yourself that the last few you either forgot or spent at a bar. And,” she looked increasingly bothered at his words and he considered stopping, but he put thought into this, “If it’s within my power to do something for you that could make you happy then I have to do it.”

“Then we have to find a birthday for you too.”

“That isn’t necessary--”

“Yes it is. If mine is, then so is yours.” he didn’t try to argue anymore. “So you want me to open this?”

“If you want,”

“Really if this is--oh...”

“Do you like it?” he asked as she held it up to examine. She turned the star over in her hand, it was barely the size of a fingernail, and engraved on the back in impossibly tiny script.

“It’s perfect...thank you--I can’t see the letters on the back--Sorry, I need my glasses for...” she liked that he chose a black cord too, instead of a gold one.

“They couldn’t personalize something that small, maybe I should have gone with a larger one but I was able to use one of your laser tools. I didn’t think it was that small, just how bad are your eyes?”

“Not that bad but--What’s it say?”

“‘Lucky Star’“

“...What?”

“I--you were humming it one night until you fell back asleep so I thought--I’m sorry if I got it wrong or if--”

“No it’s...” she was trying hard not to cry at this point, unable to hold back the tears despite avoiding a complete breakdown. “My mom--she used to sing it to me and--When I heard her recording she... That’s the last thing--she sang it for me and...”

“Amy I’m so sorry--I-I didn’t know.”

Amanda had changed, through what she’d survived, through half a year of accepting (usually) the help he offered, or perhaps she had only grown a little in that instead of doing what she might have done as recently as three months ago and hiding on her own until she had no trace of tears left and then never mention it again.

Instead, she looked over to Christopher’s open arms and took his silent offer.

“I didn’t know...I can fix it, or fix it and then return the whole thing--it doesn’t matter to me, love. You can pick something out inst--”

“No you got it for me!” she sniffled slightly her tight hold on him easing up a little. “You chose it and made it special and put thought into it and..”

“I did mean the sentiment. Beyond your luck at the obvious you are a lucky star to me... If that isn’t too melodramatic or saccharine for you.”

“It is...But you really are the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” She held up the necklace, “Could you put it on me?”she asked; he obliged happily as she thought he would, glad to perform the cliche romantic gesture.

#tumblr fricking ate the ending so I had to rewrite it but I'm getting a migraine so I didn't get to do much #also as per usual this hasn't been edited yet

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ginnyzero · 4 years

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5 Things Women Hate about Women’s Fashion

Comedians joke about this, comic writers use it as punch lines. And Women’s fashion is this huge industry that is considered a lot more experimental than men’s fashion. Because apparently, men won’t put up with the shit that women do. Or, women just haven’t managed to find a way to force the industry to have some common decency standards.

So here is a list of common complaints that women have and even I have.

Vanity Sizing

I’m putting this at number uno. This has been a problem for decades. Years ago, even back when I was a child in the 80s, some smart ass decided that if a woman thought she was a smaller size then she’d be more likely to buy a product. Thus began the psychological practice of vanity sizing. And no woman could go to a store without having to try things on.

This sucks. Women do have standard sizings. The US has standard sizes. Europe has standard sizes. Fashion designers actually learn to make patterns in standard sizing! There are graphs. In fact, most of your home sewing packets with patterns are in standard sizes.

And as the years have gone by, Vanity sizing has gotten smaller and smaller as this psychological trick really doesn’t work as well as they’d want you to believe. Look, I cry when I put on a 00. I don’t want to be that tiny. It’s not a great feeling. Let me be a Small. Let me be a size 4. Even a size 2 feels like too small. Contrary to the industry’s beliefs making a size 18 a size 12 doesn’t make that size 18 actually feel any smaller as a person.

It just makes shopping that more bloody difficult. Am I a small? Am I a medium? Or am I an extra small? (The higher the price point, usually the smaller I am.)

The other issue with vanity sizing is that in grading a pattern, there are literally no standards. The company can say that a size 16 is whatever they want to whatever measurements they want. And this creates a problem with grading. Grading is the method that patterns are increased and decreased to create different sizes from the original sample pattern. Pattern makers make good money because it’s a science to be able to translate the sample into a bigger size and keep the correct proportions of a garment. So, if you buy something that has huge armholes and the armholes just keep getting bigger the bigger the pattern gets, it’s because it wasn’t graded properly and vanity sizing (and a bad pattern grader) are to blame.

This can happen to even the most expensive of garments, say wedding dresses. You spend thousands of dollars on something, you want it to fit! Well, here is my advice, don’t try to have the pattern altered. Don’t raise the neckline especially. Because that’s going to change the entire pattern. It will come back too big. The entire pattern’s measurements are based on the bust. So, if you think the neckline of your wedding gown is too low, choose another gown. Period.

No pockets

Ugh. What happened to pockets? I had pockets in high school. I remember having good front pockets on my jeans during high school. Now, if I want to have front pockets in my jeans instead of small pockets or even fake pockets I have to wear my father’s jeans that shrunk in the wash. Look. I’m a daddy’s girl. I have limits! (And yes, when I worked at my father’s shop I wore male jeans pretty much exclusively even though they bulged in the front when I sat down because they were comfy and had front pockets for my wallet.)

A lot of people blame the handbag industry for this. I don’t. The handbag industry has been around for centuries and before handbags became a status item women had sneaky ways of putting pockets in their clothes. Those big skirts could hide a lot of things including pockets. Chatelaines are awesome.

I blame two things. The recession of the mid-2000s and stretch denim.

Okay, fancy evening dresses and cocktail dresses and such haven’t had pockets really since the sixties. (Fifties full circle skirts allowed for these lovely things called pockets.) But back before lyrca was added to everything patterns had to be created with what was called ease because woven fabrics unlike knits just don’t stretch no matter how hard you pull on them. That’s why you had to “break jeans” and shoes in. You had to manually break down the threads of the denim or stretch the leather of your shoes to get that comfort ease to your clothes.

Denim companies do a lot of prewash and pre-wear work on denim pants and they still came out stiff and would shrink in the wash because cotton. (Stone wash denim is literally put in a big washtub with stones.)

Then Lyrca came about. Spandex was found to be useful for something other than biker shorts and bathing suits. And the Lyrca and Spandex companies began to push and push and push these new fibers. And Fashion really got into it. Look at how tight we can now make jeans.

Then the recession happened. And the first thing that has to go is any extra fabric. So in combination with the fact that fashion “trends” were for really tight pants and these new gadgets called cellphones created unsightly lumps in those really tight pants, front pockets ended up disappearing because hey they could save material cost and manufacturing time. (Yes, any minute of sewing time and excess of material that they can shave off your clothes to save a penny was taken into account in those days.)

And as anyone knows, it’s really difficult to get something back once it’s gone. Once a policy has been instituted, it’s next to impossible to get rid of it. See gas service charges etc.

But we aren’t supposed to be in a recession anymore. There are still super tight pants and dresses without pockets and well, it’s bothersome. Because it’s actually safer to carry something in a pocket than it is in a handbag if you’re a woman. I’d rather have my wallet in my front pocket than in a purse because 9 times out of 10 I don’t have a secure place to leave my purse while working.

Baby Doll T-Shirts and Short Shorts

Sigh.

I put these together because they seem to feed off each other. Why is it that women can’t find a normal wide cut t-shirt or a pair of shorts that at least go to her fingertips? Shorts that are more “bermuda” style and are comfortable aren’t a second skin and don’t chafe. Especially, and I mean especially because girls/women are subjected to some of the most extreme and male pandering dress code rules lawyering that there is in existence.

I went to a Christian School. My dress code insisted on skirts at mid-knee or lower and my shirts had to be within 2 fingers of my collar bone. And I had thin fingers. Even back during the 90s this was a tall order!

I don’t know when tight t-shirts called “Baby doll” (oh don’t get me started on the sexist nature of that name) t-shirts came into being and became popular. And somehow, somehow all the other t-shirts for girls disappeared. Oh yeah, we had a brief resurgence of “too big” 80s style clothing. But that’s not really the same as normal style t-shirts. And around the same time, the short short “daisy duke” style shorts came back into style for all fabric types.

And they haven’t gone away. I’ve stopped buying shorts because it’s either they’re tight and/or they don’t have any coverage. I’ll wear a dress (a nice comfy t-shirt dress) before I’ll buy shorts. (And I can’t buy capris because I’m petite and they fall wrong proportionally and I’d have to hem them. And by hemming them I’d lose the pretty details at the hems which is the reason I’d buy them in the first place!) In the 80s, at least the shorts were long and I wore skin tight biker shorts but at least they went past my fingertips. (Granted, I think my mother made them after the popular styles in stores for me. But she was thrifty like that.)

This has gotten so bad that it’s filtered down to the styles of young girls. The young girls people protest shouldn’t be sexualized. That they need to be able to run and play just as well as boys. And maybe we should just have a child’s section instead of a girl’s and boy’s section if you’re going to end up forcing parents to shop in the “boy’s” section for their little girls to have clothes that aren’t tight, short and ‘too old’ and ‘inappropriate.’

There are parents out there that can’t stand this so much for their little girls that they’re trying (bless them) to start alternative clothing lines. (One or two items of clothing is not a line but digression.) And I wish them all the best. In fact, I wish that they’d all get together actually create an alternative clothing wear BRAND for little girls with all of their awesome ideas instead of being 101 little tiny companies. (Because it’s ridic.)

At the same time, adults would also like clothes that aren’t tiny shorts and tight t-shirts that cut our circulation off at the armpits! Once again, I blame the recession. You can also blame “body conscious” celebs like the Kardashians for this ridiculous trend sticking around. Ugh.

Gendered colors, motifs and patterns

Let’s spring off that last one shall we?

Gendered clothes. Gendered toys. Gendered butterflies for girls, dinos for boys. If you look at the aisles and the areas of clothing and toys in stores, companies have indoctrinated us into this belief that pink is for girls, blue is for boys and that girls don’t like dinosaurs or dragons or trains or anything remotely car related.

This is bull.

Okay, there are probably two topics that can get into a history rant, it’s gendered colors and wedding traditions. (White started with Queen Victoria, it’s not traditional, wear blue. It’s lucky. “Married in blue, he’ll remain true.” And Debeers in the 30s pushed diamonds for engagement rings, before that stones like sapphires and emeralds were popular. Resist the indoctrination.) In the last, oh, 75 years, gender colors have been flipped.

Pink wasn’t for girls before the 50s. Pink was for boys. Why? Pink was a warm color. A strong color and stimulated babies. Blue is soothing. It calms girls down. Honestly, colors are colors. However, over time and after the 1940s with pink being used for homosexuals by Nazi Germany and the ascendance of Barbie, pink became to be associated with femininity, fragility and girls. Boys were put into blue and strong primary colors. Girls were regulated to pastels and ivory. Maybe if it was Christmas they got a pretty red dress. (Because Red is scandalous you know on a woman. Men remember women in a red dress. Red is the color of prostitutes.)

And then screen printing came into being. Clothes could have everything from pictures to logos to all over patterns printed onto the fabric. And things became even more divisive. Girls couldn’t like math or science. The boys got those types of patterns. Girls didn’t like trains or cars. Boys got those patterns. Girls got flowers and fruit or butterflies or pretty unicorns.

It’s insidious. It’s patronizing. It’s degrading. It plays into the idea that girls aren’t as smart as boys. They’re only good for home making and having babies and that girls are weaker than boys. Stop already!

I really think my children’s section is a better and better idea than a gendered boy and girl’s clothes section.

As a young adult, I would have killed for a fitted button down shirt with Shenron the Dragon on it from Dragon Ball Z. But no, that was a boy brand. Hell, if they had something cool from Sailor Moon on a fitted button down I would have taken that too, especially if was Amy, Rei or Lita related. (Forget getting any of the outer senshi on clothes but err, they were more my jam. I took fencing okay.)

Girls want cool things. They want action related things on their clothes. They enjoy science. You know what turns girls off to science. (In fact most kids off to science.) School. (High School Chem was awful.) Give girls and women the ability to have clothes that aren’t 100% pink and purple all the time! Clothes that don’t rely on horrible gender stereotyping because that’s what companies think sells. Give girls options.

(And you know, if the boy wants the pink feather boa, let him have it. For fuck’s sake.)

And this leads to my next bit.

Little bows everywhere.

OMG. When Victoria Secret was doing non underwire, t-shirt bras without bows, I bought like three of them. And I’ve worn one out so badly I had to toss it and I almost cried. They are/were the most comfy things ever and have wonderful support. Okay, shout out done.

Back to little bows. This is almost and I say almost limited to lingerie companies. You go to the store, you’re trying to find a bra and you run across on almost every bra you find either scratchy lace or little tiny ribbon bows. They aren’t there for any sort of function. It takes time to tack those things on so they only add to the cost of the bra. They aren’t even big enough to be noticeable. And they are everywhere. Near the straps, at the middle of your cleavage. They’re lumpy.

“But bows are cute and feminine and girls want cute and feminine undergarments!”

Yeah. Not all women.

And I say that this is mostly limited to lingerie companies but it does sneak into things like shoes and socks and occasionally handbags and jewelry. Little bow jewelry.

I’m not a bow person. Seriously, I put them on my Christmas Tree, but they’re black. They’re nice on the Christmas Tree. They aren’t nice on my person.

Bows are frankly childish. Sure. There are some women who like them. But if they like them, they’re going to be wearing them in a place for them to be seen outside of their regular garments. Okay, I’ll admit that I’m a sucker for shiny things. I buy either completely plain bras or bras with rhinestones. There really is no in between. I’ll even put up with lace to an extent. I don’t like bows. Many women don’t like bows and to tack them on almost every style is obnoxious no matter what brand the bra or underwear is!

Little bows infantilize grown women. “Oh, she’s so cute,” is all well and good when you’re a toddler. Not when you’re an adult. Stop. Just stop. You can make pretty and functional lingerie without putting little bows all over it. Especially if lingerie is supposed to help with the lines of your outfit. You don’t want little lumps!

The fashion industry is a juggernaut. It’s a juggernaut that runs on slim margins and on heavy market research. Women need to speak up. Stop letting celebrities and comedians do the talking for you and let the fashion industry know that we’re serious about not being patronized, infantilized and stereotyped because they want to save a few pennies a garment.

If I had a million dollars, I’d start Moto (my label, check my portfolio) with the intent on trying to capitalize on most of these things. (Sorry, not a lingerie or children’s designer. But you know, that’s what other people are for. Teamwork.) But you know, if I had more than a million dollars I’d be working on a AAA level MMO targeted for girls that also involved fashion.

So, you know, that wish list is kind of big here.

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