This old, grainy photo, taken surreptitiously in the darkness of an urban parking garage with a low-quality camera is a humble little thing that won’t win any awards, though fans of Mrs. Pix may appreciate her flashing most of her ass and a dishing out a fair helping of attitude. But this is really about the dress that you otherwise might not even notice.
The dress was designed specifically for Mrs. Pix, by a “legitimate” designer I happened to discover quite by accident. This person at the time was edging out of the mainstream of retail fashion and into the slower-paced world of servicing private clients – who also happened to be hyper-celebrities. Her hideaway shop was filled with the most amazing fabrics from all over the world – things you would never see even in high-end retail lines. Upon discovering her I would visit her shop now and then for the sheer hedonism of fondling her fabrics. We would talk about my interests, which eventually led to the idea that maybe she could make something for Mrs. Pix.
By the time I eventually brought Mrs. Pix to her shop, my new friend had a pretty good idea of the look we were heading toward – a Palmer Girl – a simple black tank with a deep open back and devastatingly short. Something so simple and classy would appeal to Mrs. Pix, and the luxury of the fabric – a thick, hyper-stretchy, second-skin velvet, would make it something remarkable.
And so it came to be. Mrs. Pix loved the dress – it felt dreamy on her body (to both her and to me), cut a very classy look that could fit in anywhere (anywhere she could handle the stares). She wore it always otherwise nude – which interestingly was obvious from the start was the only way to wear it. Walking would always be a challenge because the clingy fabric would creep along her skin, inevitably baring her ass and even her pussy if she did not continuously restore it to order. This of course was very sexy, as she and the dress would engage in this never-ending tango … yes, with her lady bits sometimes dancing in and out of view.
On the night of this photo, we went to the opera. I was in my tuxedo and Mrs. Pix was nude – oh, plus heels and her Palmer Girl dress. She felt good … she felt beautiful … it didn’t seem to concern her at all that she was one false move away from indecency. That didn’t really concern me either until it came time to find our seats. We were in the “nosebleed” section, which required finding the proper aisle and then climbing a flight of very steeply-raked stairs to get to our row. And guess what – yep – as she climbed those stairs, the totality of her long legs, the fullness of her ass, and even the lips of her moist pussy were on display … and right in my face as I climbed up behind her. I don’t know who else may have seen – I dared not look left or right – I just kept close behind her to provide her what screen I could and betrayed no notice of any irregularity. I don’t think she even realized what had happened.
When we arrived at the opera at the start of the evening, we parked in the highest, most remote part of the parking structure, anticipating trying for a pic or few at the end of the night. We also took our time leaving the opera house, allowing the bulk of people and cars to clear out before we would reach our car. That largely worked, though we still had to be careful.
In this photo you see Mrs. Pix at the beginning of what turned out to be a very consequential elevator ride to our car on the upper levels of the parking structure - dodging the other opera goers to snag the picture. Though still grainy, this one captures that Palmer Girl attitude. (You will see more.)