Yes, there really is a love file chez Cavendish, and yes, I am (mentally) humming the “Love Boat” theme as I write this. Let me quickly adjust to the O’Jay’s “Love Train” and I’ll be much happier. There.
Mr. C and I have kept a file since our wedding, though we haven’t looked in it for, oh, sixteen years. So I guess we updated it for a year or two and then forgot all about it.
The love file holds many things, including the title to our courtship vehicle, the few cards we received for our wedding (it was happily small, remember?), some billets doux we sent each other when he lived in Iceland, and my old hair.
Mr. C and I have kept a file since our wedding, though we haven’t looked in it for, oh, sixteen years. So I guess we updated it for a year or two and then forgot all about it.
The love file holds many things, including the title to our courtship vehicle, the few cards we received for our wedding (it was happily small, remember?), some billets doux we sent each other when he lived in Iceland, and my old hair.
As Mr. C was rummaging through the love file (currently kept in a box in our upstairs linen closet) looking for the aforementioned car title, he found a little lavender paper bag from Bergdorfs and some magazine clippings. There was Isabella, above, and Annette, below (pre-Lauer, thanks).
I had ripped out these images (from Mirabella!) in the early 90s because I was thinking about getting my rather long hair bobbed, and I loved the attitude in these clips.
The piece de resistance was in the bag: my dark blonde pony tail, measuring 13 inches. And it was from the rough cut, just above shoulder length, so you can imagine how long my hair was. (Well, maybe not crazy long for you, but the longest it has ever been for me.) I remember a couple of model-y types squealing when the talented Mark Garrison (then at Frederic Fekkai) made that first chop.
I don’t quite know what to do with the pony tail, but it seems a shame to throw it out, so I think I’ll leave it in the love file for awhile. It can simmer.
On a perhaps unrelated note, I’ll be venturing forth tomorrow via automobile, eventually climbing north through Massachusetts, through Portland, Maine, through Fredericton, NB, and then to the seashore.
I may not be wired for awhile, but I’d be so happy if you’d consider saving this post in your bloggy love file, if you will, and I’ll soon be dispatching from the beach. Or en route, if the stars align.
6 comments:
My husband and I keep a love box ... it's so fun to rifle through it on anniversaries.
You know how I am with ponytails! Send it to me and I'll stick it on my head! :-)
Wendy, I was thinking of following your lead and making my own faux-ny tail when I wrote this . . .
Sal, It's a treat to look back, especially when you've forgotten all about what might be in the box!
Ooh, such a lovely post! I have a love file of old faxes (yes, I know, so pre-millenium!) from when my husband and I lived an ocean apart: he in Milan, me in NYC. I would arrive every morning at my ad agency to behold a shiny slip of paper (remember how weird fax paper was?) that had been sent during the night.
Adore your blog...it's scrumptious! xx
I LOVE the idea of a "love file." I've never heard of such a thing. You and Mr.C are romantic.
I have a love file. I have every card my WOozle has ever given me, every doodle he has ever drawn and candles from every birthday. Love turned me into a pack rat.
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