01 March 2012

the hour.

A couple of weekends ago my friend Carolyn and I found ourselves at The Hour (it was a wandering little journey through Old Town, Alexandria; we also hit up Pretty People and Misha's). The store has an insane assortment of vintage glass sets, crystal decanters, tin trays, bar carts, and the like, and while I spent the bulk of my visit concentrating on making SMALL and PRECISE movements, terrified at every moment that I might turn too quickly and incite a million dollar, rioutously loud and embarrassing glass-shard shower (I shouldn't even LOOK at nice things, really) - I was ALSO envisioning myself swanning around a sunken living room with a tray of Old Fashioneds, pausing to straighten the frame on our Rothko before offering our impeccably-dressed guests another round. In real life I drink grocery store wine out of a juice glass. The end.


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