Sunday, October 25, 2009
Grandmothers
I bought a shirt and a sweater yesterday from a garage sale at the Elk's Lodge and didn't wash either because I was positive they were worn and washed by grandmothers. Yesterday, they smelled of faint perfume and powder. But today, as I wear one under the other (they look fab together, incidentally), I feel like all I can smell is grandma. Customers at the shoe store have complimented me on my amazing get-up (that costed a grand total of $1.50, mind you), but they don't have to smell grandma. I learned a very important lesson this weekend: one tiny load of wash is always worth the time.
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2 comments:
I saw a grandmother the other day in public transport, and she was rocking a mendicant look, almost Mary-Kate style. And I could have sworn her knee socks, pulled up over her hose, were hand-knitted in 1972.
Wow. I can't wait to be a grandmother. I'd especially like to be this one.
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