Celebrating the Hallmark Holiday

I had forgotten that it was sweetest day . . . which I don't really consider a holiday anyhow. Might explain why all the single men in the world are holed up, probably watching television (well, it is the World Series). Just too much pressure. I was blissfully unaware until I saw a display at a Birmingham florist.

So today I donated 13 bags of clothing and shoes. I bought some yarn, because I've decided all my hats are itchy and I can’t run in an itchy hat. So I bought some silk yarn . . .

I went to Harp's and bought some underwear with my mother. Saw Mrs. Harp, which was very cool. They don't let you go through the bins though . . . which I would have preferred. Harp's doesn't have much on display and there are no bras on display at all. They are all packed in bins, by size, and are behind the counter. When you get a sales person, they send you in a room and just show up with bras. Mine all came in candy-like colors because my mother was outside and told the lady that I had too much black (who can have too much black?).

Even more disturbing . . . you don't get to put the bras on . . . they put them on you. And adjust the straps. And shake things around to make sure it fits. It's a bit unsettling. I knew my size from going to Bravo, in Royal Oak (where there is much less touching . . . they'll tell you to do things, but won't handle anything) but I don't think the lady believed that I knew my size.

So they tell you to turn around and bend over slightly and they pull the bra around you quickly. And then there is looking and adjusting and pulling . . . and then they are off to get the next bra. I'm not especially shy, but there is some standing and wondering about if you are supposed to leave the previous bra on until the new one comes? Or if there is some etiquette about this that I have somehow missed? It was much like a car crash, but repeatedly. I bought matching "pants" (as the woman called them), which my mother mentioned later. And you know what? It’s not about matching all the time . . . it’s about the ability to match when needed. Or if needed.

I then went to the glasses store and spent way to much on a pair of very, very cute red glasses with rhinestones. Our little helper man wanted me to get the bloodred ones, which he thought made me look authoritative. I don’t think I need to look any more authoritative. So I went with the cute ones. Of course, I’ll now not be able to wear pink or green with them because I don’t like to clash. But I compensated for that when I had red hair, so most of my clothes are already red or black. And they are so fun. I’ll have to put up pictures when they arrive.

So "sweetest day" is really just spending day for me. Luckily, I didn’t know . . . or I might have been depressed and spent even more money.