Corona Chronicles: Missive 11

So by now, you've seen our motto, which is: "Accessorize Joyfully!" And, you know what? You should!  Accessories are that extra frosting, that little bit of sparkle that makes the look complete and completely joyful.  

This is something we intrinsically understand as children.  Remember that painted ziti necklace you strung together in Kindergarten and insisted on wearing every day for weeks afterward til time and the occasional rainshower took their toll on the structural integrity of the pasta?  Remember how proud you were of the craftsmanship and the fact that you made it yourself? Remember how disappointed you were with the wet mess it became until you realized that there was a whole world of colorful, glittery, bejewled accessories out there and they even sold whole kits of these beauties that you could custom design all by yourself, inspiring the envy and admiration of your pre-school set?  

I remember.  I remember a trip to Macy's with my mom as a five- or six-year-old girl.  I think we were looking for school shoes, but somehow we made our way to the dress department where I spotted this black and white houndstooth number that I just had to show my mother.  Now, in truth, what I remember, even these many years later, was that the dress was ugly.  The print was too old, the fabric was scratchy, and the cut was prairie schoolgirl--not my look. But, and this is the crucial part, IT CAME WITH A NECKLACE ATTACHED. 

Man, I wanted that necklace.  It was a classy strand of solid white plastic beads that to my six-year-old eyes looked like the oversized pearls a young Jackie O. might wear to a weekend social and I had to have it.  I don't remember exactly what my arguments were, but I put up quite a song and dance about how much I liked the dress, how often I would wear it, etc., to my highly skeptical mother.  She too saw the ugly and could not understand why I wanted it.  I was not about to admit my true motives and in the end, we left without the dress.  But my mom is a girl too.  And I guess she thought about it for a while, questioning how such a well-dressed mother could inspire such bad taste in her daughter, when it occurred to her: it was never about the dress.  The next day she took me to Claire's or maybe it was Michael's and bought me my very first jewelry-making kit with all the sparkly beads and bespoke white plastic pearls a girl could want.  And my love of accessories was born.