This is the license plate that sits above my kitchen sink. I have had it for years, although I don’t remember how I came it came into my possession. Today is a big day in our relationship, as it is finally the date I’ve always seen on the plate: 91910. My long list of quirks (I don’t eat the tops or bottoms of bananas, or the bottoms of baby carrots, I always double knot shoes with laces… I should stop waving my freak flag so high…) includes a previously mentioned obsession with dates. Finding dates in license plates was once my favorite past-time in my home state [used to be arranged: ## letter ####, making those last four or five numerals ripe for birth dates/life milestones], until they changed the format a few years ago. Oregon’s plates are similarly no fun, so now I seek dates in all sorts of other odd places- order invoices, closing day report totals, and my new favorite, building addresses.

Cheers to 09.19.10! More fashion to come later, lots of shows to review. My last few posts have taken a pretty personal turn, as opposed to more style-centric, but I am trying not to fight whatever I feel the urge to share. So far, it feels pretty right.

Cheers! PoseCity xo


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