Hebrew Reachel translates baby lamb "ewe." And I love me some lambs, regardless of whether or not petting them at the State Fair caused me to break out into lamb lice. In any case, I consider Shabby Apple's Sheep Meadow frock aptly named. I love it like my own bottle-fed lambkin. If the pictures don't tell story enough for you, let me elaborate in letters:
1. Sleeves: Even though I have a sweater collection fit for every imaginable scenario, Satan's hot windy breath has already reached Arizona's borders. I extol the flexibility to remove my cardi thereby circumventing unnecessary visits to my dry cleaner.
2. Color: Green, love child of blue and yellow, obediently compliments its parents, while flaring fiery contrasted romances with red, magenta, and orange.
3. Pattern: Stripes, nautically charismatic in their own right, and a naturally blending secondary pattern for florals and other fussier breeds.
4. Waist: The a-line skirt flaring from a defined empire waist defines my figure while shrouding 12 week old Baby Billie. I was curiously tempted to see how far into my second trimester I could selfishly cloister my favorite secret, using only the magic of fashion. But proud Monsieur Bagley's secret keeper is about to rupture. He's only been waiting six years to sire a flock.