Shopping

I'm not a big shopper. I enjoy spending money as much as the next ugly American but shopping isn't on my list of "Things to Do for Amusement". There are maybe 3 times a year when I go on a shopping excursion for the sake of shopping and these are ocassions that are preordained and liturgical. For example, in the summer The Child and I always go to Ms. M's for a light lunch and a swim and then go poke around the shops in the Ballard neighborhood near her house. On the Friday before school lets out for Christmas break there is a Christmas shopping/lunch thing with the Coffee Moms. But generally shopping is done because there is something we need, it is a strategic maneuver and the goal is to get in and out without losing too many minutes of the life that has been given to me.

Yesterday was an exception. My hostess gift from ChouChou and John was a gift card to Anthropologie. Here's something you should know: if you ever want to give me a present, just go to Anthropologie, swing a dead cat and buy the first thing you knock over. I lova, lova, lova this store. A gift card to spend? Oh happy day, calloo callay.

So ChouChou and I met to shop and lunch and it was very fun. I picked up a mess o' latte bowls, in two sizes, some napkins that match a tablecloth The Neighbor brought me from Paris and a little book titled The Perfect Egg and Other Secrets by Aldo Buzzi which is described on the flyleaf as "a tribute to the profound pleasures of food". Doesn't that sound like a perfect thing to read of a summer's afternoon?

As we were poking around the store I admired a number of beautiful stemmed wine glasses but couldn't bring myself to buy them. If abundantly wealthy we'd have dozens of wine glasses but even for the most swellegant of our dinner parties wine is served in bistro glasses. People break things. Especially our people. And when that happens, as it so often does, I want to be able to gleefully shout, "Opa" and then sweep up the bits without a thought. A guest ought not be put in the position of feeling badly about breaking a $15 glass and I don't want to be angry about its loss. (And I think I would be). So we stick to the cheap stuff and that's fine.

But, if you know even a smidge about wine, you know that a hand on the glass warms the wine and this, for enoheads, is a no-no. Since we are usually drinking 3 buck Chuck from Trader Joe's, it's not a huge concern. However, a stemmed glass for white wine makes a lot of sense and geeze, it's summer, so there's more white than red flowing these days. Long ramble longer, I decided to see if there were less expensive glasses elsewhere. Not at Williams Sonoma, I assure you. There were some rather groovy glasses that had pewter stems but all I could think was what practical use would there be for a bunch of pewter stems with jagged glass tops after they'd all been broken? We slipped into Pottery Barn and there were some perfectly acceptable glasses for a very acceptable price ($22 for 6, if you must know, which is a per glass price that beats anything even at Ikea) so I snatched some up. And also some darling little place card holders.

It was a very satisfying experience, which is the only sort of shopping experience to have. I found things I love and will use so there wasn't a smitch of buyer's remorse, which is a very nasty feeling.

More to the point, a lovely couple of hours were spent with a dear friend who makes me laugh and who doesn't mock when conversation turns to my next husband, Steve Martin. We had lunch at a sweet little place called Mom's, that has been at University Village (the shopping enclave wherein we were) for 20 years. Sadly, Mom is closing up shop. The Village used to be a very rank, silly place with nary an interesting shop within it but it's gotten very upscale and chichi and apparently the landlords were not being very accomodating to this established and beloved institution. I hate, hate, hate when that happens and yes, nasty letter to property people will be sent. It's too late to do anything about it but someone ought to tell them that sometimes doing the right thing is more important than squeezing the last drop of blood from a turnip. Or something like that.

Anyway, as I don't go shopping that often the closing of Mom's was news to me so it's good we went when we did. It would have been a very rude shock to go to the Village later in the summer and find Mom's gone. The Child is very fond of the place, too, so we're going back today for a last lunch. Then we'll probably go to Anthropologie because there's still a little balance on my gift card.