Obsessed with the 1920's....

I found myself squatting in my Havaianas by the garbage can in the middle of the night last weekend. I was hysterically sifting through rotten food and used tissues for a pea-sized scarab from my grandmother's 1920's bracelet. I had coerced  bribed enlisted mini-sassy and my cousin Maisha to help me.To distract ourselves from the stench and general yukkiness of our task, we spoke about 1920's fashion. And by WE, I mean ME. Just so you get a sense of the scene, this is how I was yammering without pause :
" I  would be SO happy to just wear clothes like I walked out of  the novels of F. Scott Fitzgerald. So feminine and floaty and alluring....... My grandmother had a closet-full of party dresses from the 20's ( she was quite the flapper)....... As a little girl, I would secretly examine each and every bugle-beaded dress!!! OHMYLORDTHESHOES! Bejewelled, kitten-heeled suede little things! Speaking of the 1920's, have you seen Marguerite Duras' "The Lover" ? The Fedora that launched a thousand obsessions!"
Yes! I was blabbing on and on in this disjointed nervous fashion, full of non-sequitors and histrionic sniffling  ...but  inside I kept thinking: It's only a THING.. it's only a THING....it's only a THING. Maisha and mini-sassy wisely kept their mouths shut- to avoid inhaling the smells and the fruit flies.

St. Anthony or maybe it was John Locke of LOST once said: "When you stop searching, you find what you are looking for".  And so it was with me. Wrapped in the last wet paper towel of the trash heap, the very second  I  accepted that I had lost the scarab forever, there it was...
I would have cried from  gratitude but I was too busy trying to spit out a family of fruit flies!

XOXO,

sassy

(image: thesartorialist)