At first, I admit, I was drawn to her polka dot fingerless gloves. Shallow, I know. So sue me. Staring is rude, even in George's Shoe Repair, so I pretended to look at arch supports while I checked out her look -- dramatic, dark eyes, bright lipstick, very long coat, red ruffley bag with nonfunctional zipper trim, moccasins. That's all good in my book so I lurked outside, again pretending to be super interested in Penzey's window display (Occupying Grand Ave). She looks a little like Anna Wintour, infamous devil-in-chief of Vogue, because her hair is similarly behaving and wonderful. But when I complimented her look, she wondered aloud if it was too much. She is my people and that hurt. I babbled on, trying not to sound like a creep, which is sort of an uphill battle. Then she gave me a hug. Even though I have a mullet. And was wearing some freakish Afghani pants. She is not too much. She is perfect.
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