Wednesday, May 15, 2013

The Lady From Chicago

There is a woman in Chicago, or near Chicago, who I've bought clothing from on several occasions.  I imagine her as grandmotherly, maybe cleaning out closets for a move to a smaller, "more sensible" place.  I think she has a standing appointment to get her hair done every Thursday or Friday at a place she's been going to for years.

My first purchase from her was a grey Akris jacket.  It was priced ridiculously cheap (the way I like things), and she included a little surprize for me--some costume jewelry, the style of which I remember from my childhood.  I was touched.  While I may never wear that jewelry, it was a thoughtful gesture, and I emailed her my thanks.


About six months later, I bought a pair of Akris pants from her.  Again, they were an excellent price, and I was happy to be buying them from her.

They came when I was in the hospital for some surgery.  When I returned home, the box was waiting for me, but I scarcely had the energy to open it. (Amazing what surgery can knock out of you!)  The second day I was home, I summoned my strength and opened the box.  The pants were perfect, and this time, there was again, a little something extra.  This time it was a black wool Armani skirt.  I looked at it in wonder, and thought that it would never fit (European sizing) but by hook or by crook, I was bound and determined to try it on as it was the most elegant skirt I had ever seen.  Awkwardly, and with a bit of pain, I got myself into it.  It fit as if it had been tailor-made for me.  I was astounded on two fronts:  this woman's generousity which could not have come at a better time, and that the skirt fit!

I emailed her and told her of my surgery, and how much that skirt meant to me.  She wrote back a quick note, and just acknowledged that she was glad the skirt fit.  I like to think that she was secretly delighted that that skirt had made me so happy, but I will never know.

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