Delusions of pregnancy and grandeur

I lazily caught a crowded bus to U Village yesterday (um, very important business). A man began to stand, to offer me his seat, and I told him, "No, that's OK, I'm getting off at the next stop."

He sat and I considered whether I felt demeaned to be offered a seat. I'm younger that he is, I thought. I'm female, I'm not incapable of standing. It's not like I'm wearing heels, or pregnant.

And then, even worse, I thought, What if he did think I was pregnant?

. . .

Fall fashions at Anthropologie consoled me. I was very good and put back even the cheapest sale items (because who really needs another skirt?) until I saw a small purple jacket. Ooh, clothing! Why do you tempt me? You know autumn especially is my weakness.

I spoke with a sales girl all about the new catalogue. Even better: new Nordstrom catalogue. A gorgeous cover by R. Toledo, and pages flooded with dark, cozy, proper clothing. Long coats and big leather bags, and so much deep purple. I showed Brian a $1,395 Fendi watch with my birthdate on the face. He didn't think it was quite the sign of destiny I did. He also said it looked just like my current watch, which I intended as a sign that I quite like the style. Apparently, to some an established personal taste is redundancy.

. . .

I think the economic downturn, combined by autumn's usual influence toward more conservative, vaguely-academic/equestrian apparel, has driven fashion in a pretty classic direction. No shocking new trends. Magazines discuss purchases that will last a lifetime -- wardrobe investments. Flattering shapes, predictable autumn colors, versatile feminine styles.

I don't mind it at all. As much fun as it is to be intrigued by Balenciaga tulip-shaped skirts, or entertained by a glowing lime green MJ bag, my personal purchases have moved consistently toward things I expect to wear indefinitely. It doesn't always work out (I swear, I always think I will wear that magenta Brooks Brothers coat more often, but then it never seems quite right). But at least I can pay more realistic attention to a catalogue full of wearable pieces than some bizarre show of which designer can make us look silliest by "experimenting with form." I don't want my form experimented with, I want it flattered. It has enough trouble on it's own, apparently (see pregnancy entry above).

Vancouver is excellent. I was quite tired of work by the end of last week, and I think the fancy times up here with Brian this weekend, plus the work-related medium-fancy times of the conference the next couple days will be a perfect little break.

Lots of walking around and eating out with Brian. A very disjointed drive up Saturday (stops for UPS, coffee, gas, bagels, lunch with Caitie, waiting at the boarder), then we explored a little, then had excellent tasty dinner + drinks at some bistro between on the cusp of the sketchy neighborhood.

Sunday: breakfast of perfectly almost-over-toasted French toast, then a shoe-buying expedition, then the newly-remodeled aquarium and a drive through the park.

It was chilly, but stayed dry until we found the craft commune of Granville Island -- drizzly is not good for tourism. We forced ourselves to walk through the little village of arts and nicknacks until early dinner. Excellent bread and Canadian peach cider, good crab cake to start, but some kind of weird bits in one of my scallops that I may never get over. If this city has ruined scallops for me, I firmly take back my "Vancouver is excellent."

Today, Pookie left at 8ish, so I got ready for a big day of no plans. Realized I left accidentally sent my umbrella home in the car, so went out and bought a new (and better) one at some drug store. Certainly, in Canada I've heard more sales rep and cashier people with clear recently-immigrated accents than I've ever heard ever in the states.

Tried shopping, but nothing peaked my interest until ... Zara. What a mecca! Everything beautiful! How have I spent years shopping and never seen this place? Everything gorgeous but reasonably priced, trendy but not cheapo, good quality, decent fit. Had to visit the fitting room twice to try everything on. And, wonderfully, went out today thinking of a trench coat, and came back with a perfect one. Love a belted waist and a big collar. Somehow, though, managed moderation and only bought three things: that coat, dark work pants, and a little black casual dress. Has bows at the waist. Possibly I'll be drawn back in for some shoes before I leave -- there were some amazing ones, if only they have my size ...

The Vancouver Art Gallery coat check lady was one of the rudest service people I've ever encountered, and we barely spoke. I can only guess she was jealous of my fabulous hair. The building is lovely -- very nice to see how a piece of classical architecture fits seamlessly in a very modern-architecture city. Some video installation, some tree stuff, much pictorialism that I looked through diligently without being moved. Was worth $15 because I had nothing better to do and it could be considered a donation toward Art.

Finally it was time for some work-related mingling. Flatironed my hair, then went cashless to the foyer on the third floor, where I clinged to the first group of approachable ladies I saw, until I heard the bar was accepting debit cards. Got me a G+T, then clumped with UW advisers till someone suggested we head to the hotel bar. Had another couple rounds and talked about college-related stuff there till someone suggested we go to bed. Now here I am. Typing way past my bedtime.

Living in the future

It's August and 80˚ but I'm feeling a bit Autumnal. Could we get a few grey rainy days please? I'd like to wear boots.

Last weekend, the Nordstrom Rack basement hosted a war between me and an olive green Marc Jacobs coat. Heavy cotton, lots of big buttons, deep pockets for storing iPod, phone, candy canes while christmas tree shopping -- it was a decidedly cold-weather coat. Unfortunately my pockets were not so deep, and the battle was decided when a slim emerald green wool coat joined the fray , armed with a much lighter pricetag.

If I told you this was my second long, solid-color wool coat to purchase this summer, would you hold it against me? But the other's kind of a slouchy-drapey cranberry piece from Brooks Brothers. Not at all the same. I went home and wore them around the air-conditioned house with sandals.