Crunch and A Day at the Mall

Crunch and I are spending some time together for the next couple of weeks. Everyday we take either two or three walks. He's such a handsome boy that he draws all kinds of attention. Seriously, it's not unusual for people to slow their cars down or to stop completely in the middle of the road to look at him or to ask questions about him. I'm not the friendliest person in the world, so I hate those kinds of interactions. I really only put up with them because Crunch seems to enjoy it.

This morning, a woman called across the road, "Is that Crunch?" (This has happened perhaps three or four times, where someone recognizes him. Once, it was even a man who had never met him, who only knew of Crunch from his wife.) She brought over her little cocker spaniel who she said only loves Crunch. She (the spaniel) doesn't like any other dog in the world, only Crunch. "She pines for him," the owner said. (I did not roll my eyes. Much.) But funnily enough, after Crunch and the little spaniel had their little tête-à-tête and we had continued on, I looked back and there was the little dog, standing in the path, just looking at Crunch while her owner tried to pull her away.  Crunch, ever the boy, just went along his merry way. 

The Purple Dress

"Every one of the ten girls in the store had little pork-chop-and-fried-onion dreams every night of becoming Mrs. Ramsay."

--O. Henry, "The Purple Dress"

After the morning walk, Dave and I went to THE MALL. I actually hate THE MALL. Hate it. It's like a nightmare from the claustrophobic collection. But we went because we had to buy Dave a suit for the upcoming wedding we're attending. (Dave's convinced that he in his suit and I in my new dress (and Kelly First's borrowed vintage jewels) are going to be overdressed. Better to be overdressed than underdressed, I think. And I also think that he's just trying to get out of wearing a suit.) Anyway, we found Dave a suit, with the help of a very odd but very competent salesman. Men have it so easy. Dave bought the first complete suit he tried on in the first store we went into. (Yes, he did have to try on perhaps four jackets and two pairs of pants to get the sizing correct, but that was it. Now he has an outfit that he can wear to weddings and funerals again and again without anyone blinking an eye. Me? I try that with a dress and I'm toast. People notice when women wear the same dress again and again.)

But my treats came after the suit buying. We walked down to Sephora and looked endlessly at makeup. Lucky Dave. I ended up buying some eyeliners in gray and beige, a brick-red lipliner (Sephora brand all), Benefit Benetint, and some lavender-scented blotting paper. I actually only bought the Benetint because I've been reading about it for years; I've wanted to try it, but it's about $30 a bottle, which is a bit rich for my blood when it comes to just trying out something. Sephora, though, let's you try before you buy and even though it was just a swipe on my hand, it was enough to convince me that I wanted to really give it a go. It's pretty stuff, and smells nice, like roses and saints. I don't think it'll be my favorite thing ever, but I'm glad to give it a go.

So my dress for the wedding is not black (a shocker to anyone who knows me), but purple and green. (No, seriously.) It's not patterned, but solid purple, edged with a soft green band at the neck, sleeves and hem, with the same green used as a belt detail. I have purple satin open-toed pumps to go with it. I just need to find a few accessories, a clutch and pashmina, perhaps in a soft gray. I'm going to borrow some of Kelly First's vintage stuff, maybe rhinestones, maybe a jet necklace or two. (I don't think I could pull of a tiara.) If none of that stuff works, maybe I'll put a big purple flower in my hair and call it a day.

Dave's suit is black with a white pinstripe. His accessory? Well, I guess that would have to be me.