progress on the prairie

Every year I am excited, when the Oklahoma weather gets chilly as it is inclined to do in November, to break out my scarves. A scarf is a perfectly practical accessory. But what about silk scarves, I often wonder? They don’t really add warmth. Or do they? And some of them look like they may reek of mothballs. But some of them are absolutely beautiful. And they are…here it comes…so silky. Of all the estate sales and garage sales and thrift stores I’ve rummaged in my lifetime, I never pass by the overflowing and often overlooked bin of silk scarves without touching. And that is exactly what I did today at an estate sale in midtown Tulsa. Brick mansion in Maple Ridge. Everything 65% off. Gray silk Liberty of London scarf with colorful fishing lures on it. Liberty of London! Fishing lures! It was meant for me; tell me it wasn’t:

And so I begin my silk scarf collection. But how does one wear a silk scarf without looking prissy or stuffy? I want to be a smart-looking lady with a fine and diverse collection of scarves for my children and my friends’ children and our children’s children to see and touch. But I don’t want to look like a snob or Fred from Scooby Doo. I think I will keep only the most wonderful scarves, and I will keep them all smelling nice, like the Medici Cocoa natural, artisan-crafted perfume that my friend Tara makes in her very own home. And then when I die, my scarves will tell people about my interests and my character. People shopping the selling of my estate will say: “Oh! A silk scarf with fishing lures! My, what an odd mix of rural and intellect this saucy lady must have possessed!” They will. Then they’ll see this picture I tried to take of myself wearing my scarf:

And they’ll giggle. But one of the people, probably a bookish girl who grew up on acreage, will see the scarf and she will not be able to carry on living without buying it for 65% off 5 dollars. And she’ll love it and consider it the beginning of her silk scarf collection, just like me. And just like me, she’ll figure out a way to work it into her wardrobe. And she’ll live happily ever after.

She will. Just like me.

Spring