the power of the clutch.


So once upon a time I was given a small clutch from my grandmom’s vast collection of vintage purses and gloves and such. The woman has more vintage purses and jewelry than she knows what to do with, so every so often I coerce her into letting me have a piece or four. So ok, I have decided that this clutch has some sort of magical-clutch powers or something, because every time I decide to carry it on a whim, something out of the ordinary and wonderful seems to happen. This out of the ordinary-ness usually happens to fall in the form of a celebrity sighting or an excellent date.

Behold, two examples:

Exhibit A: Last fall I went to an album release party at Third Man Records with Chels, and my clutch. Karen played a perfectly lovely set, and while we were enjoying the new tunes we noticed that we had some company to our left – Nashville’s own Aussie power couple – Keith and Nicole. I instantly started thinking of witty and not embarrassing things to say to Nicole to get the conversation started, but I couldn’t get past “I loved you in Moulin Rouge” so I opted for silence. Well the night goes on and all the mingling is winding down, and I am finally beside Nicole as we’re waiting to exit the building…and just like that, we’re chatting about the party and leaving and what not. Although I became painfully aware of how incredibly short I am compared to her model-esque stature, I pulled it together and tell her I love her beyond uhmazzzing dress, and she says it’s vintage. She then sees my clutch and asks if it’s vintage, and that she loves it. I am still shocked at how calm I remained, I told her it was my favorite vintage piece and then we chatted about vintage shopping on the way out as Keith held the door for us. Side note: vintage or no vintage, she is flawless.
Fast forward to this past week: I was carrying the clutch as I ran into Starbucks to get my daily caffeine fix, and who did I end up next to in line? Keith. All the Brentwood moms in their faux workout gear were silently going nuts, their eyes FLIPPING out. I was a bit distracted, nevertheless texting, and Keith bumped into me just a little bit. Like a true gentleman, he apologized, made a comment/joke about how we had both busted out the sandals, and as I laughed I asked about Nicole. She was out of town, he said. I believe my exact reaction was something embarrassing like, “Aww, ok.” BAHA. I thought Brentwood Mom #2 was going to flip her S or break her neck trying to hear our conversation one.
So, the moral of this story? I’m not exactly sure. But maybe Cinderella should have been less preoccupied with her shoe and more concerned with carrying the perfect clutch.
Oh, and HAPPY SPRING! The countdown to summer starts now.
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