When I was a little girl and my mother needed to do something nice for herself, she'd buy herself a hat. Ladies don't these days, as a rule, wear hats -- more's the pity -- so when I feel that need, I buy myself a Hermes scarf. (I'm not saying how many I have, although my son occasionally asks me; that's a secret known only to my brilliant friend Elizabeth, who helped me set up a database to catalog them.)
So, last night Elizabeth and I went to the invitation-only party for the grand re-opening of the Hermes store in Tyson's Corner. Tres impressionnant.
Hot air balloon in the trademark Hermes orange. Gorgeous black Clydesdale paraded through the store accompanied by chic young girls in jodhpurs and boots. Massive bouquets of white peonies that smelled so much like honey you kept expecting a beekeeper to show up. Attendants at the valet parking who were, shall we say, pretty-pretty boys avec accents français who surely have never done valet parking duty ever before in their young lives.
Nice people passing trays of champagne and nibbles. E and I tried the steak tartare, which was being served, as so many appetizers and desserts are these days, on spoons -- automatic portion control. But it was very nice, just the right amount of spice to go with the steak. There was a gorgeous, huge, black Kelly bag that I looked at the way Jimmy Carter admitted to having looked at some women -- with lust in my heart. E and I perused the scarf counter and then had a lot of fun noting really big hair, really big boob jobs, and really bad plastic surgery. Speaking of which, the only semi-celebrity we saw was Andrea Mitchell, wearing a rather mud-colored Roccaille shawl.
We headed across the courtyard and had dinner at Colvin Run Tavern. We split the pate appetizer and E had lamb while I had flounder stuffed w/ crab, shrimp, tasso, and asparagus. Then we split the cheese tray. The food was amazing; the service pretty so-so and not nearly as nice as I've had the other times that I've been there. Colvin people, here's a clue, if you no longer carry Six Grape Port, don't suggest Six Grape Port.
So, I know, I know. There's a hole in the ozone, the world's a mess, there are wars and famines and diseases and all kinds of problems demanding our attention. But by now you know that I think we were put her to thrive, not just to survive. And once in a while, you have to put it all behind you and enjoy yourself. Now, go buy a scarf.
4 comments:
sounds like a lovely evening. I'm hopeful that someday I'll learn how to treat myself that well.
What fun. Not to inspire jealousy or anything, but I have in fact visited the Hermes store in Paris. It was wonderful.
(Mr. TJ is a fan of their ties.)
Not me, I buy power tools. Or lawn mowing equipment (zero turn radiuus mowers... the ultimate indulgence). My dad left me a whole batch of tools when he died and I am now sorting through the ones to keep or donate. Even as a little girl I would rather sopend time nailing stuff into a board than playing dress up in mum's closet.
G in INdiana
This kind of thing serves the purpose that rock shows do for me . . . drinking beer, inhaling cig smoke, going home deaf and eyes red, exhausted in every sense of the word (depleted, tired, used to the limit).
It's slowly helping me through a lot of tough stuff right now . . .
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