I am knitting a bikini top for my dear Sarah, who is one of my favorite people of all time. I've worked with her for years and always found her to be damn near genius. She is also naturally blessed with a giant rack, a full bouncy, beauteous pair of ta-tas which I have cast on 63 stitches on #8 needles to accommodate. The problem here is, I really can't recall what number needle I knitted the pistachio top on.....we'll see! This might be a debacle.
I picked a red which will go with her beautiful tan. She's like me in that she is, in winter, exotically pale, with her dark hair and eyes- the kind of pale an olive skinned person who never gets outside, until she gets outside and becomes bronze in about five seconds. I, unfortunately, freckle and blotch, instead of toast. It's sick, because I really do think tans look prettier and healthier, but personally, with skin cancer in the family and my own scare...well, let's just say you'll see me outside in long sleeves, a hat and a big umbrella. I am looking at my hands right now, which are the only thing ever exposed, and they are kind of brown...and not even a good brown, just, sharecropper, farmer tan brown.
Oh how I would love to be sleek and tan and toned...but I'd have to be sleek and toned first, and that's a lot of work, and probably, at my advanced age, not even possible..I'm cottage cheese-ish, and sort of lumpy, and my skin tone is disturbingly similar to a defrosted turkey, complete with big blue veins just under the surface. YUCK-O! Ain't no tan gonna help that.
So I want to create the perfect showcase for my dear friend's boobs, and since she's going to the lake on Wednesday, I got a time limit. So I should be knitting. Right now!