Enchantment. Rain. A Crossbow.

voltee ♦ October 7, 2010 ♦ 4 Comments

Item: Tunic Color/Fabric: Animal-esque print, rayon Designer: Kookie (!) Where Purchsed: The Salvation Army (Hereafter reffered to as Uncle Sal’s) Years Owned: 2.5

In case you are wondering who that handsome fellow posing with Trixie is, his name is Buddah. I think he may be in love with Trixie. He just walked in circles around her, rubbing his little head against her flat tummy. I couldn’t get him to stop. I finally decided to just go ahead and take the picture with them both. It’s a very cohesive look, yes?
Anyway, today I am desperately fighting a looming tidal wave of sadness. And not very well. When a melancholy comes a-knockin’, I admit that I am prone to give in. In fact I like to encourage it, feed it with sad songs and wine, and just really wade out in it and let it swallow me up like quicksand.
Week of Endless Smiling! Week of Endless Smiling! Oh, but it’s chilly and rainy, I have a lovely Merlot, and Ryan Adams is singing to my soul! Enter long, forlorn sigh.
Maybe I can coast on this wave for a spell. I chose this tunic today, because two years ago today I was wearing it in most magical Prague, which was similarly chilly and rainy, and yet not sad in the least..
I bought this on one of my favorite types of day: a Wednesday with Lisa. Wednesdays are half price at Uncle Sal’s, and I meet my friend Lisa for coffee, followed by the shopping. Sometimes I am certain that Lisa is enchanted. If I go to Uncle Sal’s on my own, I don’t find anything useful or even pretty. It all looks like cast offs from Dynasty, with shoulder pads, appliqué, and wine stains. Plus everything smells bad. But when Lisa is there, she’ll say, “Oo, look” and reach into the rack and pull out something made by a famous Italian designer. It really is wondrous!
I’m not sure why exactly I thought this tunic would be appropriate on my first European escapade. I think I brought mostly inappropriate clothing. I wore this with skinny jeans, a cropped leather jacket, and pirate boots. Here I am shooting a crossbow:
No, this does not give you a very good idea of what the tunic looks like on me, but it does give you a good idea about how I look shooting a crossbow. Pretty badass, right? Well, sure, if you emphasize the “bad” part. I nearly killed the poor man who ran this attraction. I was so terrible that one of the arrows I shot was not even able to be located afterward. Ever again. It was never found. Some tourist probably was not able to board his airplane because it was lodged in his camera case. Maybe he’s still locked in Czech prison.
Anyway, at first I felt bad about losing the arrow. And then I thought, well, why in the world would anyone give a crossbow to a girl in an animal print tunic? What did he expect, really?
A few words regarding Prague. Most of the time, if you read a book, or listen to anyone talk of Prague, the words “Fairy tale” are never far behind. And it’s a phrase that does not do such a city justice. There is a deep magic thriving in Prague. It is old, ancient and ever-changing. And completely palpable. But I could never really put my finger on where it came from. Sometimes it would be in an uneven cobblestone. And then in a sea of red roofs. And then in the eyes of a stone gargoyle. And then in the lights that swam on the surface of the turbulent river. And then on the graceful point of a steeple. And then the living green sheen of a statue. And then the vibrant red of a rain-soaked rose.
Until finally I understood. It is merely a city of unfathomable mystery. And dark, bloody history. It is something I can only feel, and never find adequate words to tell.
Here is what Prague can do to a couple:
We were truly amazed by this couple’s intensity. They made out, oblivious to everything, including obnoxious Americans taking their picture, for a long time. At least as long as we stood there gawking. And they were still going well after we moved on. There were no signs of slowing. I have never dreamed that two backpack wearing individuals could reach such heights of passion. Perhaps they are still there, too. Staging a demonstration until the person incarcerated for carrying my arrow onto an airplane is released.
Well, how are we feeling about the tunic?

**I am keeping this, even though it doesn’t seem to be popular.  I like it.