My love for specific accessories comes in waves. There have been high points for earrings, rings, scarves, necklaces, bracelets and headbands. The items are worn almost every day at first before settling into a normal pattern of use. And now that I can feel the chill of Autumn on the breeze, my focus has shifted yet again.
My mild obsession with gloves is well documented here. The pairs I long for now aren't as mesmerizing as the ones I had in elementary school with the pictures that changed color when hit with the cold, but I find myself equally drawn to them.
Yesterday while on a trip through a local store with a friend, I found drawers and drawers of pretty vintage pairs. Button detailing. Leather made soft by use and decades of existence. I pulled on set after set. The ends of many just reached my elbows. I tried to imagine the types of women who had worn these confections. How did they keep a pair of white gloves with lace detailing so clean? Not even the yellowing of age had infringed on their purity.
The last pair I tried on was beige with thin strips of brown suede that ran along the lines from knuckle to wrist. A small button snapped at the wrist on the palm side to insure against loss. (Much like every other accessory, I have lost many a glove in my time.) I contemplated them for a very long time. What would I wear them with? The color wouldn't go with any of my winter coats. And I would constantly be afraid of losing them. I softly placed them back in their drawer.
Unlike earrings, rings, scarves, necklaces, bracelets and headbands, I don't know if there's a place in my life for gloves like those.
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