Uno! Dos! Tres!

voltee ♦ April 13, 2011 ♦ 1 Comment

Item: Skirt Color/Fabric: Poppy, cotton Designer: Maeve Where Purchased: Anthropologie Years Owned: 5
To begin, a confession. I am having a very hard time with the writing these days. Tonight, I decided I would give myself a goal of writing every other day for a bit and see how that goes.
It’s getting hard to find inspiration, and sometimes I feel as though all of my tales have been told. Tonight, for example, I decided that I did not want to write about anything theatre related. Apparently, a difficult task. Almost everything in my closet that spoke to me told a tale of seeing a show, or being in a show, or not getting into a show.
Even the skirt that I chose has a few theatre tales of its own. It was worn for a few brief moments in Bye Bye Birdie, by an 70 pound teenager, no less. Sometimes I got a little dismayed by how teeny-bopper much of my wardrobe looked in that show. It worked for the show, but I wonder frequently if they look the same on me. I hope not…
Anyway, this skirt has a lovely Spanish story as well, and that’s what came to my mind today.
I wore this our second day in Barcelona, a day I like to call “The Day of the Three Outfits.” Yes, there I was , like J Lo, with three fabulous costume changes. I have already written about another outfit that day, here.
This is the outfit I began the day in, however;

This is a girl ready to see a Pope Parade and explore Barcelona! An adventurer, with a hat!
You see, we unknowingly arrived at a very momentous time for Barcelona. My very first memory of the city is graffiti, on the train station. A great deal of it. It read “Adios, Papa!” and “Death to Papa!”
“Jeez,” I said to Nate. “Someone really hates their father.”
And there was more like it, all over the city.
Then, when we were seeing the Gothic quarter for the first time, we noticed that the cathedral was closed. And there was a giant banner.
It dawned on us at exactly the same time; Papa means Pope. Of course.
“Jeez,” I said to Nate. “Someone really hates the Pope.”
The Pope was visiting to consecrate La Sagrada Familia, and would be making a procession throughout the city in his Popemobile. Nate was very excited about this.
So we got up the next day and stood for a few hours, on a crowed street lined with every single cop in Spain. Seriously, they were lined up every two feet on both sides of the street, for miles and miles. And helicopters.
It was such a spectacle! At one point, a little boy ended up crawling underneath my skirt. He laughed uproariously when I caught him.
And then, after a long line of motorcycle cops and someone called “La Reina!”, there he was, the most famous man in the world. He seemed jovial. He waved, and in a second, he was gone again.
He was followed by a huge entourage of priests and nuns, and even more cops.
I’m glad that we got to be a part of such an event. We even got little flags to wave, which we kept, of course.
Then we headed to Guell Park, which I had wanted to see since high school Spanish class. I had no idea that it was so remote. How hard could it be to find? It’s giant.
It wasn’t quite as magical as I dreamed. Yes, the landscape and the architecture were whimsical and remarkable, and it did feel like being in Wonderland. At least it would have, if it could have been a little less crowded.
And there were so many vendors, which took away from the storybook magic.
But some made a different type of magic that I didn’t expect to find. Yes, there were many people pawning off mass produced junk. But there were also artists, selling wonderful works made by their own hands. I bought a perfect bracelet from a charming man with a filthy dog. If I could go back, I would have bought more. He made beautiful jewelry.
Outfit number two I like to call “the cape.” It is one of my favorite pieces I’ve ever owned. I’ll wait to tell that tale.
I think I may have worn this skirt more than anything else I own. I’ve worn it tons, in many different ways. I love the color, and I love to wear it with unusual combinations, like bright blue. And hats. I like the ballerina-y look the best. I just haven’t grown tired of this one yet. I think I could keep finding new ways to wear it.

**I am enormously fond of this skirt. I have not grown tired of it yet, so it lives to see another wear. Or two. xxsx (My nephew typed that. I’m proud, so it stays, too!)