I spent a good part of the day working with some particularly delicate velvet. Beautiful and luxurious, in deep, chocolaty tones, it reminded me of my old cat, Milhouse (the one on top). Then, in the afternoon, this came along:
This fabric was thick and coarse, and immediately made me think of my great-aunt and uncle on my father's side. It looked exactly like something I would expect to find in Aunt Rutho and Uncle Dewitt's apartment. Heavy, old, with some sort of back story, and the distinctly aged fragrance of and old person--not mothballs or good bond, but not perfume or food either. Just...age.
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You forgot poodle must or whatever poodles emit.
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