From My Little Blue Dress by Bruno Maddox:
She was attractive I decided, though in a musty-looking sort of way. Her skin was pale, hardly glowing with health, and her clothes were fairly drab, from bottom to top: canvas shoes, faded blue jeans and a tight white T-shirt curling up at the lower hem to bare the merest sliver of midriff. Frumpiest of all was her cardigan, grayish purple and woolly, possibly homemade. It threw me slightly, that she was wearing that cardigan. Not only was it easily eighty degrees out there in the street--though she wasn't sweating--but people in New York don't usually wear items of casual, almost whimsical knitwear, even in winter. People in New York tend to dress either grittily or glamorously, and her cardigan was neither, about as jarring against the urban backdrop as my baggy black sweater had been back in early twentieth century rural England.
She was attractive I decided, though in a musty-looking sort of way. Her skin was pale, hardly glowing with health, and her clothes were fairly drab, from bottom to top: canvas shoes, faded blue jeans and a tight white T-shirt curling up at the lower hem to bare the merest sliver of midriff. Frumpiest of all was her cardigan, grayish purple and woolly, possibly homemade. It threw me slightly, that she was wearing that cardigan. Not only was it easily eighty degrees out there in the street--though she wasn't sweating--but people in New York don't usually wear items of casual, almost whimsical knitwear, even in winter. People in New York tend to dress either grittily or glamorously, and her cardigan was neither, about as jarring against the urban backdrop as my baggy black sweater had been back in early twentieth century rural England.
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