Tiny Baubles

I wish I had more opportunities to wear hats in my life. (I could stop here, but because I am not a mini-blogger, and this is not plurk, I will go on and on). So bear. I wish there were opportunities to wear hats in my life. When a woman buys a hat (even if it is one hat, the most modest one!), her life changes completely. It's all downhill from there - unless you buy a new hat, as every hat may only be worn once. A hat, first and foremost, means that you have somewhere to wear it. It means you have friends who invite you to the events which matter to them, be it a wedding, a Luncheon or a garden party. It means that you are demanded socially (which we all should be, no matter what). A hat means that you have enough money to spend it on silly, unnecessary accessories. It might or might not means gloves, a long cigar holder and a  dress to die for, but it means a woman is not starving and has certainly enough fat on her baby cheeks. A hat means you are pretty, as it makes you even prettier. I haven't met anybody who looked bad in a hat (I know my English friends might think of Queen Camilla, yet I like her in a way you like Victoria Beckham - in an amusing sort of way).  It also means nice, sleek, elegant hair - when no day is a bad hair day, when even  in the sun you look like a million dollars and this is how it should be - a million dollars daily. A hat comes with bubbles, and what I used to call "champagne attitude", when I was young and carefree. It is more of a state of mind, when you hold a flute ever so slightly arrogantly yet approachable at the same time; so those who dare may reach out. It means la dolce vita daily, and I wish it was possible. A hat, furthermore, does not mean the following: revolutions, money and/or food shortages, corporate wars, non-traditional medicine, lack of vision and other insecurities, as well as miscellaneous bizarre situations which must never happen to a decent woman. God bless the milliners and their lucky recipients. And god, do send me more hat opportunities - as with hats come everything I could wish for.

How I Almost Bought a Horse

Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a girl who thought she loved horses. She read somewhere that horses were kind and intelligent and she had been horse riding a few times, so she thought she knew enough to call herself a horse lover. Until she met another girl, who actually lived on a farm and looked after the real horses for a living. That other girl had four horses of her own, and she took care of other people's horses as well. She had to get up early, and clean the stables, and teach her horses different tricks, and then bathe them and feed them and show them she loved them. So, our girl was very much envious of that other girl, so she asked her what it takes to be able to live with horses. All you need is a horse, - that other girl said. You cannot train unless you have one. If you had one, I could teach you how to ride and how to look after it. And that got our girl thinking about the actual, real, alive horse she could call her own. She recalculated the budget for the next month  to realise she could squeeze some little horsie in. She knew she could afford the horse's rent and food and maintenance (the quote was around $50 per week). She started picking the names and looking at knee-high boots. It all was going very well, until she realised that living in a central city apartment, not owning a car, not being able to drive and not having the actual time to spend with the horse it would have been a total disaster buying it. So she did not. (That girl was me, four years ago). I like to think about it as not of a crushed dream, but a postponed dream. A horse - any horse, not necessarily pedigree - is still in the top 5 on my wish list. I still intend to take some time off in this life and live on a farm, looking after animals. I intend to learn how to ride and how to trot and how to jump. One day, one day.. Why am I talking about it here? Because a "Horse and Pony" magazine was delivered to my mailbox the other day, and I am thinking, God, is this a sign it is time to buy a horse?

My discreet pleasures

Things I enjoy most:
  • dipping a hand into a bag of lentils (hello, Amelie!)
  • opening champagne bottles. Drinking champagne and watching the bubbles float
  • taking off the rollerblades/skies/5 inch stilettos and walking on the cold tile floor
  • tearing the cellophane wrap off new CDs
  • landing - on the plane
  • opening tight jars (chpok!)
  • taking a car through a car wash
  • kissing little children
  • wearing something new for the first time
  • POPPING THAT BUBBLE WRAP
  • waiting for a great song to download off the internet
  • jumping into a freshly made bed
  • reading local papers in tiny townships
  • jumping into the snow after a sauna session
  • eating the fresh, young snow
  • catching those discreet flattery looks
  • setting things on fire
  • taking vodka out of a freezer
and all times favourite:
  • a shot of cognac before and a cigar after.