What was Said. Part 1
Mrs. Bellejambes celebrated a birthday recently. Some of the things I picked up for her were not perfect, and one was a complete repeat of a top she already has and does not wear in high enough rotation to require a double.
Back to Bloomingdale's we go for the true up effort. Mrs. B
attacked the racks while I managed the return transaction. Mrs. B is not so
avid a shopper as I. She was hailing me and holding aloft hangers for quick thumbs
up or down from me while I engaged with the shop assistant.
The assistant swanned off to a rack to grab an SKU number, all tall, elegant and compelling. Apart from a smile that could cause large ships to run ashoal, she was tall and stately in a gorgeous black midi sheath dress with a big knee to nape exposed back zip all perched on a pair of 5 ½” pumps. 6’3” easy and of perfect, healthy proportion.
The assistant swanned off to a rack to grab an SKU number, all tall, elegant and compelling. Apart from a smile that could cause large ships to run ashoal, she was tall and stately in a gorgeous black midi sheath dress with a big knee to nape exposed back zip all perched on a pair of 5 ½” pumps. 6’3” easy and of perfect, healthy proportion.
I, at this moment am merely dying of envy.
One of her colleagues happened by.
“New shoes??!”
“Yup! Just yesterday. Love them.
Didn’t even pack flats today”
Back at counter, she is now clicking away at the point of
sale terminal.
“Did I hear new shoes, no back up?”
“Yes!” (blinding smile)
“And you are on your feet all day.”
“Yes!!” (big eyes)
“That is a bold choice”
“Well, I am only on for 6 hours today so I should be OK”
“Ah. Well, you look terrific so I hope it all works out for you”
“Me too! Thanks!!” (more click click click)
I arbitrated a few fashion coin tosses with Mrs. B. She
traded complements with the assistant. Mrs. B is as much of a traffic stopper
as our towering new friend. Both clearly not jealous types, and naturally
generous. We (You and I dear reader) envy too that happy sororities freedom to
share compliments, do we not?
Our transaction done, tissued and tariffed, off we went with the rest of the day.
Our transaction done, tissued and tariffed, off we went with the rest of the day.
What I Would Have Loved to Have Said.
“Do you cover the BCBG
and Alice and Olivia racks too? I want to be sure you are paid if I find
anything really pretty for me while my wife takes care of business here. Don’t get
me wrong, I love Eileen Fisher, but she is not in my sweet spot. Yours either,
am I right?
I just wish I was in
pretty mode today so I could try a few things on. And don’t
hate me but I need your dress. It's a Victoria Beckham isn't it? Where
is she and do you have a 6??”
What was Said. Part 2
In chap mode recently, with friends and family, all together celebrating a milestone birthday (not one of mine or Mrs. B’s) at a nice restaurant. I was seated next to the BirthdayGirl. She was bejeweled, hair piled up and pleated party dress all atwirl. It did register with me that she chose a flattering silhouette. High waist, full full skirt, square neckline, all elements conspiring to do the job of accentuating the positive and obscuring the negative. I chose a pretty typical guy compliment.
“You look great. Happy
Birthday”
Kisskiss and hughug all around the table.
We settled in for apps and bubbles and the chit chat started up in the way it does. BirthdayGirl and myself uniquely at the table had a great long view of the room which allowed us a peek at the big glass entrance beyond the Maître D's station. Loads of light and people pouring in at dinner hour here close to the Summer Solstice. Terrific eye candy and BirthdayGirl is reliable with the play-by-play people commentary.
Some couples make an effort together. 95% of the women really knocked it out of the park. 95% of the guys total schlubs. Lots of dazzlers, just no dazzling couples. You really wonder at the lack of symmetry. I mean guys, thanks for leaving the ballcap at home but, really, would a jacket kill you?
Anyhow... The two tall women breached the big glass door.
You and I of course would have spotted them a mile away. Apart from the height,
there were the broader shoulders, the giveaway gaits, the weather tossed wigs,
the wardrobe choices that set the ladies apart from us all and from each other
too.
One conservative, long skirt, boxy cardigan,
sensible shoes and the big baubly necklace. The other all rhinestone-glitter,
body-conscious, clingy party frock barely covering butt all perched atop the
black sheers and towering strappy platforms.
BirthdayGirl is a proud, liberal, contemporary city dweller.
Her social circle is a crazy quilt of diversity. She is in most of the rooms
she occupies a minority, and feels a real kinship with other minorities in part
as a result of her personal experiences. She really does take joy from being in
the company of people with different edges and expectations. Rather a
generational hallmark in my experience and one of the perennial badges of urban
sophistication.
Arched eyebrow half in my direction, the other half towards
our new minority diners.
“O. My. God. My day is now fully made…”
I returned her
conversational volley.
“Hmmm. Maybe she should have stayed away from the rhinestone number. It’s
a little too after-dark-dance-floor for an early supper table don’t you think…?”
She ran to the net and lobbed:
“Her bag is wrong too. Big satchel and small dress is a never-never
no-no”
Yes, we big city types have that class of Cole Porter blasé
repartee on tap at all times. We even use words like blasé and repartee. We are loathsome, no?
The hostess waltzed our minority diners through the buzzing
dining hive and sat them nicely, somewhere out of our field of view. At which
point the conversation drifted back to careers, milestones and the ceaseless
examination of our various and manifest quirks of inherited and privately
cultivated neuroses.
Dinner was choice.
What I Would Have Loved to Have Said. Part 2
"Oh my dear, I have to tell you. She, well, both ladies might at this moment feel at
some level terrified, but that feeling is overwhelmed by every else. They feel
free. They feel beautiful. They feel electric and more alive right now than any
other time they can remember.
They feel right. They will want to bottle this
feeling and spray it on every other moment. They want to have this feeling,
this memory as their deathbed thought.
I do not think we can hope to see anything so beautiful as
these two ladies tonight.
Epilogue
Turbulence is avoided and the bright blue vistas on the other, unseen side of the clouds remain a Shangri La, a Never Never Land, a Passport page unstamped.