The Lure of Beauty

Today I was sharing some of the items in my Poshmark closet in a "wardrobe goals" party, and I was struck by how many of descriptions say "worn once" or "only worn twice."  How could I have purchased all this clothing and jewelry, hung onto it for (in some cases) 30 years, and never used it?

I blame the Lure of Beauty.

I'll bet you know what I mean.  The color, the fabric, the design was just so amazing I had to buy whatever it was.  The feel of the soft silk!  The saturated colors in the paisley print!  The stunning asymmetrical neckline!  Then when I took it home, it didn't go with anything else I owned.  Or it was gorgeous, but not really cut right for my body.  Or, in the case of my most recent wardrobe mistake, I realized too late that I don't feel comfortable displaying my booty in maroon pants, even though they're well cut and go with most of my other things.  Beauty on the hanger or in the jewelry case doesn't always translate to wearable.

When I was an insurance executive in New York, I could afford to buy clothing and accessories I wore only occasionally (or never).  With retirement staring me in the face, that is no longer the case.  Now before I buy something, it has to pass through these filters:

• Is it an item I really need?  Does it fill a gap in my wardrobe AND do I anticipate wearing it frequently? 
• Do the color and style flatter me and coordinate with the rest of my things?
• Does it fit my body really well, or can I have it tailored cost-effectively?
• Will it be easy to maintain?  (I rarely buy "dry clean only" any more.)
• Can I afford it?
• Does it make me feel fabulous?  (Those maroon pants were never more than "yeah, OK.")

I actually tried to ask some of these questions in the past - particularly "does it coordinate with the rest of my things" - but then a luxurious cashmere or a particularly beautiful semiprecious stone would convince me that surely I could wear whatever it was with SOMETHING in my closet.

Oh, the lies we tell ourselves when seduced by the Lure of Beauty.  Now when I am in danger of succumbing to it, I watch a few videos by slow fashion and sustainable style blogger Alyssa Beltempo, and eventually the moment passes.

"Fashion you can buy, but style you possess. The key to style is learning who you are, which takes years. There's no how-to road map to style. It's about self expression and, above all, attitude." —Iris Apfel

Bubby, Can You Spare a Book?

Several years ago I was given my first e-reader - an early version of the Barnes & Nobel Nook - and received it with mixed feelings.  It just didn't look and feel like a real book.  I wasn't sure I could adjust.

Since then I have grown to love traveling with an e-reader.  I load it up with novels I want to read on the plane/bus/road; travel guides for the area I'll be visiting; and (if I'm going to a foreign country) phrase books for the local language.  One small book to pack instead of an entire stack - as long as I remember the charger, I'm golden.

I've also started to use it to downsize my possessions.  Although by some definitions I'm already living in a tiny house, the day will eventually come when I'm living in a single room, and it won't have space for all my books.  When possible, I've been trying to store my favorites on the e-reader and eliminate the hard copy.

However, I have a lot of favorites, and while many classic books out of copyright are free through Project Gutenberg, most e-books are almost as expensive as their hard copy versions.  Which is why I was happy to join BookBub.

Every day BookBub emails me a list of e-books on sale.  The list is tailored to my reading tastes (I had to fill out a questionnaire), and because I have a Nook, most of the books are from Barnes & Noble, although I've also acquired some from other sources.  I have been using the list in three ways:

• When one of my favorite books shows up free or at a low price - say, $1.99 - I buy it.
• If something that looks like an interesting read shows up as "Free," I download it.
• If I see a book by a new-to-me author that looks good but I don't want to spend money on it, I go to the Greater Phoenix Digital Library (through Overdrive) and see if I can check it out.
  

So, in addition to letting me replace some of my hard copy books, BookBub has been introducing me to a constant stream of new authors, many of whom are not available in my local brick-and-mortar library.  I'm actually on my third e-reader now (they lead a hard life in my purse), and I'm getting quite fond of the little devils.  If you have one and are looking for a good source of affordable e-books, check out BookBub - you'll be glad you did.

“Books are a uniquely portable magic.” – Stephen King

A Stitch (Fix) in Time

As I've mentioned before, I've spent part of the last two years downsizing and improving my wardrobe.  I did a lot of this (both disposal and acquisition) with the help of Poshmark, but I also decided to try Stitch Fix.

If you have somehow avoided being exposed to their ads, Stitch Fix is a personal styling service that will send you 5 pieces of clothing and/or accessories every 3 months to buy or return.  They charge a $20 up-front styling fee each time that goes toward the purchase of any items you decide to keep.  When you receive your Fix box, it includes a postage-paid pouch for returns.

To help determine your style, the software takes you through questions about your body type, fit and color preferences, budget, etc.  You are shown "outfit" photos and asked to rate how well you like them.  In addition, Stitch Fix suggests you set up a Pinterest board with items you like to give their stylists more specific guidance about your taste.  A few months ago they also added a feature to their website where you are shown a selection of different clothing items each day and asked whether each one is your style or not, and you can leave a short note for your stylist before each Fix.

How well does this work?

First of all, let me be clear - I do not like IRL shopping.  Occasionally I am forced to visit a brick and mortar store just to check the fit of a new clothing brand, but I was never a mall rat and prefer online ordering, so the mechanics of this process worked well for me.  If your idea of heaven is spending the day browsing the clearance racks at Nordstrom's, this may not be the right service for you.  

Over the past two years, I have been assigned a different stylist for almost every Fix.  (The last two were both by the same person.)  Two of the stylists - including the last one - nailed my style.  A couple of the early ones were really off.  I blame the vagueness of some of the initial style questions for this; for instance, I marked that I like green apparel, but the greens I typically wear are blue-greens; the olive sweatshirt in one Fix made me look newly embalmed.  Over time, as I have made online comments about what I kept and what I returned and why, the Fixes have been getting better and better.  I've also been pretty regular about going to the site for the daily "thumbs up/thumbs down" ratings on individual items.

Perhaps the biggest help, though, was when I added photos of most of my existing wardrobe to my Pinterest board so the stylists can see what I actually wear and determine where the gaps in my closet might be.  That's when I started to receive garments that worked with all my other clothing.  So, the more information you give the stylists, the better the end results.

Overall, I have been very happy with the service.  By now they have sent me several items that I would never have picked for myself, but that I adored from the minute I tried them on.  When I complained that two of the garments shrank in the wash, despite my following the laundering directions to the letter, they refunded my money with a note of apology.

Do I recommend the service?  Yes, if you are willing to do the work to show the stylists who you really are.  In fact, rating their items and uploading the pieces in my current wardrobe that I like the most helped me better define what my personal style actually is, which was wonderful.  Will I continue to use them?  Yes, but probably not as frequently - thanks in part to their efforts, my wardrobe works so well together now that I am only going to need additional pieces to replace things that wear out.

“Style is a way to say who you are without having to speak.” ―Rachel Zoe

Smelling Like the South of France

For the last 15 years, my favorite fragrance has been Mariella Burani, by the Italian designer of the same name.  I wore her perfume almost every day. According to fragrantica.com, the top notes are tarragon, bergamot, brazilian rosewood, and lemon; the middle notes are iris, jasmine, ylang-ylang, lily of the valley, and rose; and the base notes are amber, sandlewood, tonka bean, patchouli, musk, benzoin, vanilla, and vetiver.  It had a very fresh, lovely scent when first applied that settled into something warmer and spicier which lasted for a long time but never turned rancid on my skin.  Over the years, many people asked me what it was so they could buy it themselves.

I am speaking in the past tense because a few months ago I finished the bottle I had been using and tried to order another, only to find that it has been discontinued.  I ordered what purported to be a NIB bottle from an online perfume warehouse with good reviews, but what arrived is not my scent.  The top note is almost all alcohol, and over time it turns into a bad copy of Obsession.  I don't know whether the manufacturer reformulated near the end to save money, or if this was a nasty knockoff in a real bottle, but I had to throw it out.

That left me on the hunt for a new signature scent.  I've made a few half-hearted trips to perfume counters without finding anything that really excited me.  Then I saw a YouTube video by Audrey Coyne that discussed, among other things, Bastide, a relatively new perfume company in Aix-en-Provence.  They now sell 5 fragrances based on the scents of southern France.  The four original scents - Ambre Maquis, Neroli Lumiere, Figue Amour, and Rose Olivier - are available as a set of four small sample sprays for $18; if you later order a full-sized bottle, you receive an $18 credit toward it.

I like all four scents.  I was prepared to hate Rose Olivier, because many rose perfumes are sickeningly sweet, but this is very light and fresh; I think I'm going to keep the sample bottle for travel.  The Ambre Maquis (amber, patchouli, labdanum) is a little heavy for my taste, but I loved both the sweet Neroli Lumiere and the fig-and-sandalwood Figue Amour, particularly when I layer them together.  And, importantly, none of these scents trigger my asthma.

Probably because they are heavy on natural ingredients and do not contain many of the chemicals found in more mainstream perfumes, these scents may need to be reapplied during the day, but that's no burden when something smells as delicious as they do.  I just ordered my two favorites and can hardly wait for them to arrive.

"We never test on animals, only ourselves. We don’t want these ingredients on us or the people we love, so we’ve left them out of our formulas to make room for more goodness from Provence. This is our Bastide Promise - 100% made with love, 0% from our blacklist." ~Bastide

Cleure Sailing

I admit it, I can be really cheap.  For many years I bought the least expensive shampoo and conditioner I could find - if it was on sale, it was good enough for me.

Then a few years ago, my scalp developed a mysterious itch, which my dermatologist diagnosed as an allergic reaction to the chemicals in my hair care products.  I switched shampoo and conditioner and the itch went away, but after about a month it came back. And so on, and so on.  Even several products billed as hypoallergenic caused problems.  This was most distressing; aside from the discomfort, if I gave in and scratched, I was just begging people to assume I had lice.

Finally I turned to the Internet and read all the reviews I could find on products for people with sensitive scalp.  With some trepidation I ordered travel-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner from Cleure, a firm specializing in non-irritating personal care.  When the trial bottles were almost empty and no itching had developed, I ordered the largest sizes of shampoo and conditioner they offered.  I've been using their products for two years now with no adverse effects.

In fact, I've had quite a few people ask about my shampoo because my hair is shinier and more manageable than it's ever been.  I was so pleased with the shampoo and conditioner that I also ordered an eyeliner pencil and tinted lip balm from them.  This summer I'm planning to try their sunscreen and mascara - because it's worth a little more money to never itch again.

And - their products are cruelty free, ecologically responsible, and help fund worthy causes.  What could be better?

"We believe you deserve to be beautiful without the risk of potential toxins and questionable ingredients. What we don’t put into our products is as important as what we do. Our focus is sensitive skin. With that in mind, our products are gluten free, salicylate free, paraben free, and fragrance free." ~from the Cleure Commitment to Sensitive Skin

Folding a Monkey

OK, Holland America is starting to scare me a little.

On my first cruise with them, a cute little animal folded from towels showed up at the foot of the bed every evening.  (I guess some other cruise lines do this, too.)  The towel animals were adorable, and different every night, and I thought, "how lucky we are to have such a talented cabin steward!"

By last year's cruise, a book was available to show interested parties how to fold 40 different towel animals.  I was tempted to buy the book, but really - I've only mastered 3 or 4 different ways to fold napkins, and I occasionally do invite people over to dinner.  Learning to fold towel animals would only make sense if I wanted to entertain and astonish overnight guests, preferably guests under the age of 10.  In the two years I've lived in this house, I've never had a single overnight visitor.  Plus, I was worried that buying the book would spoil the mystery of how the undoubtedly overworked and underpaid cabin stewards managed to pull this off in all of their cabins every single night.

This year, during our second at-sea day, the cruise line actually offered a seminar in how to fold towel animals.  I caved.  I went.  I bought the book.

I also took pictures.  See below.  I apologize for the heads in the way - people came really early for this so we ended up sitting fairly far back and I had to take some of the photos looking at the TV screens rather than the demonstrators.

"A towel animal is a depiction of an animal created by folding small towels. It is conceptually similar to origami, but uses towels rather than paper. Some common towel animals are elephants, snakes, rabbits and swans. 

"The exact originator of towel animals is unknown, but their popularity is often attributed to Carnival Cruise Lines.  The ancestors of the towel animals are perhaps handkerchief animals or napkin folds. 

"Carnival, Norwegian Cruise Lines, Disney Cruise Line, Royal Caribbean, Disney Hotels and Holland America Line cruises will often place towel animals on a patron's bed as part of their nightly turndown service. Towel animals are also appearing in higher-end hotels and resorts such as Grupo Vidanta's Grand Luxxe Residence Clubs in Nuevo Vallarta and Riviera Maya." 

 ~Wikipedia entry for "towel animal"

The Happiness of Hats

Did you see the photo of my sister Sue in front of the Hotel Villa San Pio in Rome?  If so, you probably noticed that she was wearing a hat.

I've mentioned before that we grew up in the era prior to the invention of SPF, when the little Coppertone Girl was dark brown and lifeguards had white stripes down their noses.  Both of our parents and various other relatives have had to have multiple skin cancers removed, and Sue and I would rather not go down that road.  For our late summer cruise to the eastern Mediterranean, therefore, we packed our SPF 45 sunscreen, lightweight but long-sleeved shirts and jackets, and hats.

Finding the right hats to take was more difficult than you might think.  We both have smallish heads and Sue's hair is extremely short, so "one size fits all" hats don't fit us.  At times Sue has even had to resort to "youth" hats, which tend to come in one style: the bucket.  Fortunately, through the magic of the Internet, we were able to locate the Wallaroo Hat Company, which sells ADJUSTABLE hats with an Ultraviolet Protection Factor of 50+.

On the first couple of shore excursions we took, we were almost the only people wearing hats.  Everywhere we went on the cruise, however, hat vendors abounded, and they all did a brisk business as the sun beat down on us day after day.  By the last shore excursion, over half of those along were wearing hats purchased en route.  Did they fit as well as ours?  Did THEY have UPF 50+?  I think not.

"Wallaroo Hat Company is committed to the elimination of skin cancer. The Wallaroo Sun Protection is a promise that each year, we will donate 1% of our profits to skin cancer research, education and prevention in the United States." ~http://www.wallaroohats.com/

Unsolicited Testimonial

I grew up in the days before sunscreen was invented.  The little girl in the Coppertone logo was still toasty brown, lifeguards all wore white streaks of zinc oxide on their noses, and some young women smeared themselves with a vile concoction of iodine and baby oil to achieve skin like that on a rotisserie chicken as quickly as possible.  SPF was not yet even a gleam in someone's eye the summer I ruined my skin forever by taking a job detasseling corn.

To explain, I must digress for a moment and discuss the sex life of corn.  (You may wish to send small children from the room.)  Much of the corn grown in the Midwest is hybrid - that is, a cross between two different types of parent corn.  The farmer plants several rows of "mother" corn - the plants that will actually bear the ears of corn - then a couple of rows of "father" corn - the plants that will pollinate the mother corn - and so on throughout the field.  When the wind blows, the pollen from the father corn will waft across the mother plants and fertilize them, and the resulting ears of corn are hybrids.  BUT...corn plants are bisexual.  For all the ears of corn to be hybrid, the farmer must somehow ensure that the mother plants don't fertilize themselves.  Enter the detasselers.

The part of the corn plant that carries its pollen is the tassel at the top (it looks like this).  To perform the corn equivalent of a vasectomy, the tassel must be removed from the plant before it matures enough to release its pollen.  Unfortunately, this process cannot be (or at least has not been) mechanized.  Human beings must walk through the field, or ride through it on platforms pulled by tractors, and snap off the tassels by hand.  The tassels won't break off if they are too green, and even if they aren't the detasseler must use just the right combination of upward pull and wrist motion to make them part company with the parent plants.  Since the corn plants do not all mature at once, detasselers must comb through each field several times to remove all the problematic tassels.

Of course, the period during which the tassels are at peak removal condition is fairly short and the cornfields are large.  The farmer I worked for had two detasseling crews who walked the fields (tall guys) and two who rode the platforms looking for the tallest tassels (girls).  At the beginning and end of the season, one walking crew and one riding crew worked from 6AM to noon and went home; the second walking crew and riding crew worked from noon to 6PM.  The next day the crews switched shifts.  During the peak season, the morning crew came back at 6PM and worked for another couple of hours.  It was grueling physical labor.  At 6AM the plants were still covered with cold dew and the wet leaves slapped us as the tractor drove down the rows so we were drenched and shivering before we'd gone more than a few feet.  By noon the temperature was over 100 degrees and the dry leaves were slicing us instead (think large paper cuts).  We couldn't really get a good grip on the tassels wearing gloves, so we used our bare hands, which ended each day covered with nicks and cuts and stinging from sap.  At the end of the summer the farmer thanked me for being such a hard worker and told me I could come back the next year if I wanted to.  I declined.

Although I have skin that usually tans instead of burning, 6 straight hours a day in direct sunlight with only a hat for protection was too much for it.  I burned, I peeled, I ended the summer approximately the same color as an old leather saddle - and my skin has been paying for it ever since.  I've always had freckles, but that winter several of them joined hands under my left eye to form an ugly blotch that's been there ever since, and in recent years additional patches of sun damage have started to show up on my cheeks and hands.  A few years ago the spot under my eye had grown so large and dark that I consulted a dermatologist about it.  (Even under makeup it's so visible I've had strangers ask me how I got the black eye.)  He prescribed a tube of bleaching cream that cost over $100 and didn't do much to help.

Now for the unsolicited testimonial.  I've used Clinique makeup all my adult life, so when they recently introduced their Even Better Clinical Dark Spot Corrector lotion I thought, "What the hell," and gave it a try.  It's expensive, but considerably cheaper than the prescription cream, and it works much better.  It's supposed to be applied twice a day, but because I'm a stomach sleeper and don't want it smeared all over my pillowcase I've only been using it in the morning.  It comes with a "progress tracker" card on which you mark your darkest spot's darkest tone before starting to use the product; this enables you to see whether you are experiencing real improvements.  The literature says to expect a 1-2 shade visible improvement in your designated dark spot after 4 weeks.  After 4 weeks, using the product only half as often as I was supposed to, I realized that the very darkest part of my under-eye spot had lightened by 4 shades, and the other patches on my face have noticeably faded, too.  This stuff is fabulous.  I'm hoping if I keep using it that eventually under makeup the bad splotch will just look like a normal dark under-eye circle rather than a shiner.


Sunburn is very becoming, but only when it is even - one must be careful not to look like a mixed grill. ~ Noel Coward

Sending My Iron On Vacation

Because the bed in my new house is smaller than the one I had before, I had to buy all new bedding when I moved.  The comforter and its matching bedskirt and pillow shams came stuffed into a giant ziplock bag and emerged covered with wrinkles.  At the time my iron was still packed in an unidentified box, so I made the bed with the new bedding and hoped the wrinkles would shake out over time.  They haven't.  The thought of removing the bedskirt from under the mattress and wrestling my overstuffed comforter on and off the ironing board - or dancing around the bed with my iron and its too-short cord - has kept me from dealing with the situation.  Until now.

Yesterday I bought a bottle of Downy Wrinkle Release.  I've never used it before but it looked as if it might be the answer to my wrinkly bed, and it was.  I was amazed by how quickly and easily the wrinkles vanished after relatively few squirts of miracle spray.  I expected a nasty chemical smell but didn't get that, either; the aroma is really quite pleasant.  I now have wrinkle-free bedclothes and am planning a Wrinkle Release assault on my favorite linen shirt.  If it works as well on that, I may permanently retire my iron.

Too bad none of the miracle wrinkle removers for human skin is this fast and effective.

"Age does not bring you wisdom, age brings you wrinkles. " ~Estelle Getty 

Mainlining Fashion

Last week I finally gave up and hooked up the cable box and the TV.  I still have a lot of other equipment that's lying in the bottom of the entertainment center with its loose wires waving pathetically in the air, but at least I'm no longer cut off from TCM, Masterpiece Mystery, and my guilty pleasures, What Not to Wear and How Do I Look?  If you've never seen either show, their premise is that some hopelessly unfashionable (usually female) person is ambushed and made over by professional stylists.

Although I suppose I'd be mortified if my friends and family actually turned me in to the fashion police, I can't help fantasizing about someone offering me a free trip to New York or LA, a new wardrobe, and a fabulous makeover; I think I could manage to overcome the initial embarrassment after receiving The Full Treatment.  Well, maybe I'd be scarred for life by the sight of my rear end in the 360 degree mirror, but at least I'd emerge from the experience with better camouflage for all my lumps and bumps.

Since I'm unlikely to be rescued from fashion failure by Stacy and Clinton or Jeannie Mai in the flesh, I do try to benefit from their electronically delivered advice.  Over the past few years I've stopped wearing baggy giveaway T-shirts unless I'm refinishing furniture or painting walls.  Since I can't find pants that fit off the rack, I found a tailor who can alter them appropriately.  I've even made my makeup brighter to counteract my fading tan.  I still need a personal visit from Ted Gibson to magically improve my hair, but maybe if I keep watching the shows I will eventually see a style that's right for me and that a local stylist can replicate.

I must admit, though, that I don't want to invest too much money in a new and improved look.  If I manage to lift my look completely out of schlumpiness all by myself, I'll never get that professional fashion ambush.

"The finest clothing made is a person's skin, but, of course, society demands something more than this." ~Mark Twain

Make Mine Macy's

For many years Macy's has been my favorite department store.  We didn't have one in the town where I grew up but I was familiar with the flagship store as the terminus of the annually televised Thanksgiving Day parade, and I paid it a visit as soon as I moved to Brooklyn.  During the time I lived in New York City I also shopped and loved Bloomingdales, Lord and Taylors, and A&S, but Macy's was always The Best - partly because it was (and is) the world's largest department store, crammed with Great Stuff; partly because of The Cellar, a basement full of more fabulous cookware, dishes, and gourmet food that any specialty kitchen store; and partly because their salespeople were always well-trained, knowledgeable, and (oddly enough in New York) polite.

Now that I am in Arizona I am shopping in mall-based Macy's stores.  They are smaller and less well-equipped than The Mother Shop but I still adore them.  Last week they were running their annual home sale, so I visited the nearest outpost (the store in Arrowhead Towne Center) to browse.  Because some of my stemware had been broken by the movers, I headed for the section of housewares dedicated to china and crystal, where an employee named Lynda immediately asked me if I needed help.

I suppose I could have told her I was looking for Waterford wineglasses, but I was still hoping to find them for half price on E-Bay, so I said I was just looking.  She moved with me as I wandered through the department, chatting idly but not pressuring me in any way.  Then I saw a sale sign that made my heart beat a little faster.

Several years ago I fell in love with Mikasa's Italian Countryside pattern of everyday china.  I asked Barry for (and received) a starter set for my birthday that year, and I've been adding bits and pieces ever since.  This year I had been thinking of buying the salt and pepper shakers to sit on the table in my new kitchen, and lo and behold, Macy's had the pattern on sale with some seriously deep discounts.

I turned to Lynda and asked whether the store had the salt and pepper shakers in stock.  After ransacking the display area to no avail, she checked the inventory records and discovered that three sets were supposedly lurking in the storeroom.  She headed back there to search for them.

The minute she was gone, the thought crossed my mind, "Maybe I should have asked her about a butter dish, too."  So I was blown away when she emerged from the storeroom with the salt and pepper shakers and a butter dish.

THIS is why I love Macy's.  Who else hires telepathic salespeople?


"Here is a simple but powerful rule: always give people more than what they expect to get." ~Nelson Boswell

Table Quest Part 1

Although the sale of our house fell through, I haven't given up hope that someone else will make an offer on it soon.  When they do, I'm hoping the house I wanted is still available; if not, I'll make an offer on one with the same floorplan just down the street from my parents' house.

Both houses have a square eat-in kitchen that will require a smallish round or square table.  I don't have that kind of table now but I do have a set of kitchen/dining room chairs.  My grandmother gave them to me; they originally belonged to her parents.  Since they're antique golden oak, I thought I would start looking for an old round oak table to go with them.

So, when Sue and I drove to Glendale on Saturday for German food and chocolate, I first dragged her through a 20,000 square foot antiques mall - A Mad Hatter's, just across the street from where we ate lunch.  Somehow, in all the years Sue has lived in the greater Phoenix area, she's missed A Mad Hatter's.  That's probably because her decor is mostly modern.  Still, she too became caught up in the hunt for hidden treasures.

Need an antique desk, vintage cannisters, deco jewelry, cast iron toys, a Betty Crocker-style apron?   If it's old, it's probably somewhere on the premises.  I restrained myself from buying a few pieces of silverplate that matched the set I inherited from my grandfather - I couldn't remember how many additional knives I actually need - and Sue salivated over a handmade bunny that she regretfully decided would degenerate into an expensive cat toy if she took it home.  I didn't find the table, but I saw two that are possibilities, and more may appear by the time I actually have a house to put one into.

A Mad Hatter's isn't the only antiques store in Glendale; the Historic Glendale website claims the town has over 100 antiques and specialty shops.  On Saturday we parked in front of a newly opened vintage clothing shop that I'm dying to explore (they were closed that day to attend a fashion show elsewhere).  Glendale is a longish drive from where I'm living now, but the combined lure of chocolate, bratwurst, and collectibles will probably take me back there soon.


"If men liked shopping, they'd call it research. " ~Cynthia Nelms