All Business

It's pilot season, which means that I am sampling all the new shows, nibbling at each one to see if it is a delectable treat or day-old cream puffs.

Sacapuntas

My mother's mother was the quintessential grandmother. She was a sweet woman who never swore, doted on all her grandchildren, took letter-writing very seriously and hostessing even more seriously. (She wasn't the sort to follow you around with an ashtray — that would be intrusive. But when we had grapefruit at the breakfast table, she would get up early to loosen all the segments in her guests' fruit.) She was born in Iowa in 1909. She was religious, but never ostentatious about it. She was what you picture when you picture a grandmother, and I don't think I'm biased here.

So I was really surprised to find this kicky little number among her things.

Excuse me for a second; this wig is all wrong. Yes, the spiraling black curls echo the pencil-sharpening-curlicues of the print...

O Modaction

After the Parisian misadventure described in Earthly Delights, I did another study abroad program there, for my MA. I don't really remember any details about any of the classes I took (though I did have one professor who could, if you read him a line from Madame Bovary, recite the rest of the page from memory), but I do remember going to lots and lots of mod parties. And I wore a dedicated dress.