I bought the ultra-chic hot pink ring shawl and still can get a date for the Sadie Hawkins dance. Should I have bought handcuffs instead?
Blast! I dragged my champagne extra brut shawl through the subway, and now look at it! I got a black pashmina right after my mother died, but now my daughter wants to borrow it for her wedding, only she thinks we need eggshell or dove gray. I gave it to my dry-cleaner, who NEVER screws up ANYTHING, and it came back all frazzled and knotsy. I honestly can’t deal with all the insipid compliments from strange guys, not to mention the anguished expressions and muttered imprecations from my girlfriends who already bought pashminas at twice the price. My new boyfriend says my single-ply 100% pashmina shawl is frou-frou. He says to get rid of it and buy a Vanson leather motorcycle jacket. Buying the pashmina was a selfish thing to do. Really, I should have bought the three-story Hamster Habitat for my son’s hamster Habib the Horrible.
