Lady in a pink cardigan

Friday was a day of details. It started with the issue of fasterns for my jumper and ended late last night in workshop frustration (my eyesight can’t cope with the lack of daylight).

Several hours of rummaging, revamping, twisting wire and hammering and polishing – delivered these shawl pins. I need to spend more time practicing wire winding techniques and sketching ideas. The hammer,block, pliers and wire may have to come on holiday.

I’m going with the shawl pin until something better hits me.

Strangely this morning my thoughts were not on the hammer but with ‘the lady in the pink cardigan’. I saw her in the morning across the car park. I first spotted that pink though the green trees that flank the car park. She walked confidently, bobbing like lots of ladies do when wearing high heels.  She was petit and younger than me, with dark hair and the pink colour suited her. It was a soft pink, some yarn companies would call quartz or soft peony, and one calls it old rose (oh how I’d love to work in the naming department of some wool company!). It was a nice pink definitely not the pink of a certain American fashion doll and just too bright for ‘old lady’ pink.

As we passed where the road and the path meet, I saw the heels were matt black, pointed and sling-back. Her hair was swept back and I recall it as a French pleat. That might be why she had an air of fashionable French elegance, so that might be associated thinking. I didn’t recognise her as local. Even the black bag she carried was large enough to be fashionable, small enough not to swamp her frame. “Well presented” my mother’s aunt would have said (not the giddy one, the maiden one).

She passed me and I followed her across the road.  The knee-length black pencil skirt that completed the outfit was matt black. Smart but it had quite a long kick split at the back and it was twisted.  It wasn’t by design as the split was in the back seam. The line was off and the impression was lost with one little detail.

I don’t know why this has stuck in my head – I don’t usually worry about fashion detail. Comfort and colour rule my wardrobe and I rarely notice what other people wear.  That lovely pink is on my shopping list – if I can find it.  Now where do I get rearview mirrors fitted?

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