Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Rabid Beast Meets Coco Chanel


Luxury must be comfortable, otherwise it is not luxury.
Coco Chanel


Wasn't Coco Chanel just so pretty?

Last night she saved my life!

Tuesday nights, I close the library. Well, my part of the library: Youth! Usually I am pretty tired after I get home, but one more important duty awaits: take out the garbage. (This is especially important if you have stinky bunnies and kitty.)

Turning off my car, I glanced down at my Chanel purse. Suddenly it seemed like the best idea in the world to take my purse with me as I rolled out the garbage can. (This is very strange, since I never wear my purse to take out the garbage.) So I slung it over my head.

My garbage can was heavy. It also contained about half of a Texas Sage bush, which I am most earnest about trimming into tiny tiny shrubs. When I got to the curb, I was trying to turn it around to face the right way when a vicious snarl erupted directly behind me.

There was this huge dog standing right there, absolutely accosting me. I grabbed the only weapon I had, the purse around my neck, and started waving it about (not unlike Rebecca Bloomwood in the movie Confessions of a Shopaholic when she is waving her fan while dancing.) I was very frightened. The dog, as I mentioned, was exceptionally large. The only thing keeping it from lunging for my neck was my well-made purse.

Finally, it backed off. Retreating slowly, I made my way back into my house, and sighed a huge sigh of relief.

Why did I take my purse with me? Was it intuition, that sixth sense? Or an unseen angel perhaps, sending me a silent message? Maybe a little of both? I may never know, but I can say thank you to Coco Chanel for inspiring a legacy wherein sturdy handbags serve multiple purposes (not unlike Amelia Peabody's parasol. See Crocodile on the Sandbank.)



A woman who doesn't wear perfume has no future.
Coco Chanel

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