I’m doing ok. I mean it’s going ok. I’ve stopped piling the costume stuff on top of the single strand, the challenge strand, THE strand, and I’m just wearing the thing and I guess that was the point. Wearing them like no big deal. Last weekend at the Arts Center somebody came up and asked me about it (my street team is ON IT). I was mid-conversation with the Arts Center’s Board President, who is a man, and not a pearl-wearer or blog-reader or Facebooker, and he’s like, what? And I’m like, well, this thing. These pearls. Can’t wear. I don’t know. It’s a thing.
And he goes, do you have a clasp?
A clasp. A clasp?
He goes: Do you know they have to be worn?
I’m like, mmm hmmm. [thinking, WHATEVER] [thinking this is is just the kind of poetic edict that does not help]
No, he goes: They disintegrate if they sit in a box. Pearls disintegrate.*
He comes back the next day with a wad of pearls. His wife’s. She doesn’t wear them. “Oh, she gets it, she’s totally on board,” he tells me. She can’t wear the pearls he bought her during his time in Germany when he was a U.S. Army helicopter pilot. You guys. These aren’t just pearls. They’re European military pilot pearls. I think we can all agree that makes them a) superior and b) all the more unwearable. Board President’s wife, we are with you. Welcome to the street team.
This said, the clasp is its own entirely separate issue.
Its own ADORABLE ISSUE.
Substance picks back up tomorrow with a guest post from architect, historical society director and would-be pearl-wearer Alyssa Auten. That’ll be great. She’s great. She probably has things to say. Meantime you guys if anybody has a Barbie that wants to get dressed up and hang out with Stone Lady and the Marys GIVE ME A CALL.
*They disintegrate if you don’t wear them. Huh. I can’t find a wiki to substantiate this. Let’s none of us look to hard. Let’s let this hang out there like a truth, please, to help us get through the month, ok? Ok?