Thursday, November 19, 2009

Fur, Baby!

Like many women, I am not immune to the draws of fashion but I would be loathe to call myself a slave to it. I am well-enough-versed in its tenets, for instance, to know when to say no to rhinestone-infested blouses, pleather-pants and dresses that look like migratory birds (Holla, Bjork!) Some, sadly, are not. No, judgement, Lady Gaga. No judgement.

To that end, I was fortunate enough last night to have attended a fashion show, in our town. Throughout the evening, there were several draws and, damn it, if I didn't manage to win one of them. Intraweb, I am now the proud owner of a fox fur scarf! (N.B. PETA card, not included).

I joked with the ladies before I left that upon returning home I was going to convince my husband that I had purchased it. Here's how that scene went.

Subject enters room where her husband is watching Frontline and stands in the Sears catalogue style. She is stroking her new scarf in an effort to be noticed.

Me: Hi, Honey! How was your night?
Husband: It was okay. You HAVE to watch this episode of Frontline. It's really well-done.
Me: I will. (Silence) Do you notice anything different about me? (Pause) Anything at all?
Husband: Is that a new...(He quickly scans her outfit and struggles to find anything out of the ordinary)....coat?
Me: No. (More Silence). Really. Nothing? You notice nothing?
Husband: Nothing, I guess, except for maybe that dead rat around your neck.
Me: That's better.



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