Several weeks ago I attended a charity event. The theme was elusive and when I asked around about what to wear, I was told “something sparkly” and “glittery”.
Easy. Black dress and whatever I owned in the way of rhinestone and crystal jewelry. The more, the merrier.
It was the final touch that I sensed I didn’t own. My clutches can run to bright colors but not sparkle, leather not beads.
As I cursed my way to the bottom of the drawer that holds my handbags lamenting my bad fortune and forgetting just briefly how darn lucky I am to get to attend terrific parties, I happened upon this little number. I didn’t remember inheriting it from my grandmother. It was simply perfect. Fully beaded in subdued black beads – some matte finish and some polished – it was going to be my co-pilot in charge of cell phone, credit card and Chapstick! It even sports a twisted silk strap, which I left curled inside.
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