Friday, January 28, 2011

An Ode

The first time I ever walked into an Anthropologie was sometime just before the Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City (circa 2001-ish).  And I fell in love.  I am pleased to see that now the Anthropologie is super tres chic and you will likely find an ode to Anthropologie on just about any blog these days.  But the fame is not unwarranted.  It is a magical place that has always stayed true to its aesthetic. 

So when I found myself face to window with the enlightened goodness last night, I knew that to go inside was the right thing to do.  I have a testimony of the Anthropologie.

It smelled like a dreamland and instantly inspired my more creative senses.  I lusted over latte bowls and shower curtains and even made eyes at the darlingest set of dish towels ever known to man!  I felt compelled to travel Morocco and India!  I wanted to break out oil and canvas on the streets of Paris!  I wanted to move my bed to an empty warehouse and decorate it with colorful chachkies and chippy paint! 

I didn't dare venture too far into the clothing because, well, you know there's this thing about my awkwardly growing shape these days.  But more so, if I dare fall in love with something, I'm not sure I could handle the drama of a potential checkout: either destroy our carefully laid out budget for a small shopping bag of happiness, or cry myself to sleep over what might've been.

And it came to pass that someday in the distant future, I became a millionaire and bought frivolous cardigans to my heart's content.

Until that day, my creative soul admires from a distance the bird lamps, crewel work lampshades and pillows, and the painfully wonderful cardigans.  Oh the cardigans...

Be still my heart.

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