You have these strange obsessions- you require the most meticulous of specifications in your collecting- autographs must be framed, and mounted, and photos, and strips of film; oh my! Even though he only collects books (which doesn't count. Really! It's exempt in every way... can you tell i'm justifying my own, embarrasing National Geographic collection?) Jorge has a couple of autographs- bought from those collectible poster stores I imagine, and they have little strips of film in them from the films the actors starred in- kindof silly when they're mounted on blue board and you can't see what's on them!
Silly it might be, but it's responsible for today's dress.
All my love,
Your pasta is freaking amazing. You've been selling it on Lygon Street for who-knows how long... And every time I go in there I remember why I want a pasta machine. Gorgeous, delicious ravioli in every colour and flavour (my favourite: Beetroot and ricotta, purely for the aesthetic appeal of translucent creamy parcels with their vibrant fuschia filling.) I thought a ravioli dress would look ridiculous, but that's not all you sell! You've got regular hand-made pasta too, fresh and everything. There is nothing lovelier than bunches of pasta, half-looped- the neckpiece of this dress would be silver reproductions of that pasta (detatchable for use as a necklace), with three or four wisps around the waist. The dress would be cream crepe over a light blue cotton (inked version to come later.)
All my love,