When I was a little girl, I dreamt of things most little girls fantasize about. It was understood that I would get married. That wedding would be a very splendid affair with daffodils and lillies. Or perhaps orchids and roses. Definitely a bird of paradise or two. My maids would all be in a row, looking entirely smart in pearly pea green pique. Teal taffeta might also be nice. And my beloved would be waiting for me at the altar, his black hair roguishly greased back. Or maybe his blonde curly hair would be falling in his eyes. Certainly, though, I'd never let his auburn locks stray all too long because that would be gauche.
Never one to be satisfied with a first attempt, all of these happened. Except the pearly pea green pique. Even I knew that was a disaster once I was actually faced with the dresses.
Monday, October 10, 2011
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