|Can you have just one?|
It's taken a long time to embrace the philosophy of Less is More. It will never truly happen. For the same price I'll probably choose a cafeteria buffet over one appetizer at the Ritz. Not that I wouldn't enjoy the Ritz... it just depends who's paying.
Likewise with things that surround me. Not that I don't love a beautiful object purchased at a great price— the decorative chachka bought at deep discount, the "find" from an estate sale, the end-of-season bargain ferreted out at my upscale clothing emporium of choice. I also cherish things I've held onto for no real reason, only to realize they are quite amazing— my mother's mid-century porcelain dinnerware by Eva Zeisel or her leopard skin belt (never wear the belt but use the china). I don't usually make a purchase that I know is pricey and live not to regret it.
|In the Museum of Modern Art and Chez Moi|
Not lately though. In small ways I seem to be absorbing the "you get what you pay for" aspect of life— great theater seats (at a price), the best aged cheddar (at a price one used to see listed for gold), regular-priced clothing items bought in season and not for any immediate need. I (gulp) use my best perfume almost daily, even if it means I have to replenish it myself.
I'm also looking askance at "make do and mend". Love may be a battleground, but otherwise we are not at war. It was time to ditch the serviceable-but-not-lovely IKEA table and the comfy-but-rusty-chairs on the patio and get that French bistro set I've been eyeing in the Ballard catalogue for years.
|Breakfast will now become Le Petit Dejeuner|
Why? Is it because I just turned 70 and realize one can't see how many more corners there are to turn? I'm certainly not a fatalist. I do have good genes and avoid jaywalking. I guess I've reached the place where I realize, in the words of the immortal Fats Waller, "One never knows, do one?"
|A little misbehavin' may be in order|