a few more Grails and after all that, a possible fail

The first time I saw the word "Grail" used in connection with a shopping venture was on the Purse Forum, Hermès scarf department. The ladies were discussing their "Grail scarves". I got it immediately. I had two Grail scarves in my life at the time: the scarf that showed scenes from the Bayeux tapestry, and one that depicted adorable little monks and pilgrims climbing up Mont Saint Michel. The Guillaume scarf was the one I'd bought on our first trip to France together, we'd been to Bayeux in the days when the Tapestry was pinned up to the walls of a simple building, you could walk right up to it, no alarms, no plastic. I was close enough to see the textures of the yarns and the types of stitches. Viewed like that, even though the lady embroideresses were the wives of the conquered British nobles and probably weren't all that happy, you could detect some irony. I loved it. My favorite scene in the original (1066 & all that) Bayeux tapestry* is the one where the invading French, having landed at Hastings, immediately unload kettles and cauldrons and cooking tools and boxes of food, obviously not wanting to risk living off the land. When we reached Paris, I made right for  Hermès and when I saw the scarf, I knew it was meant for me. I treasured it until it disappeared at the same time a household employee informed me that our washing machine wasn't working and she'd be happy to drop off that week's laundry at our local Fluff 'n' Fold. The towels, shirts and stuff were replaced in due course, but the disappearance of the scarf hurt for a long time. Anyway, for years I sought to replace that scarf, and when I learned that Hermès repeats classic designs from time to time, and also that unsold stock moves around the world from location to location, well, Lancelot and Perceval had nothing on me. Finally, I found my Bayeux tapestry scarf in the colors I wanted, finally, found it at Harrod's of all places! And the other one, I saw the cute little characters climbing the mountain in a silk Hermès blouse at a vintage store, but never on a scarf. Still looking. The Hermès search service doesn't apply to hunts for scarves that are so old they have value as antiques, alas.

The Grail of last winter/spring was the Margaret Annie, a Liberty shirt sold by J.Crew, and that Quest was described in an earlier post,  I actually got the shirt at a site-wide promotion after a lot of huffing, puffing and early rising. I've admired it for months. Know what? I haven't worn it yet. I don't like it with a black or navy blazer, it reads, dunno, somehow like a lady who needs to get out of the house more. That combo just lacks energy. I don't like it with jeans either. It's fine with more tailored pants, and I've been trying pencil skirts, but I really think this needs some more movement, maybe pleats? On the skirt, not the pants. Well, it looks great in the closet.



And I now have 2 gardenshade floral skirts, which were so cheap I felt I really should have a duplicate. The hem can be lowered about an inch with the help of hem facing, since generous hems and seam allowances are not part of the design equation these days. So one will have its hem lowered. This skirt is great with a denim shirt, navy linen shirt, chambray top, pale aqua cable linen sweater (very light weight). There's also a pale mint green featherweight cotton short-sleeve cardigan from a few summers ... maybe I should have grabbed a third skirt?

Another quest was a very lightweight cotton print skirt named Flora. Oh, right, the Goddess of Little Spring Vegetables! Every time I saw that skirt, I felt I should be paring and trimming cute little baby veggies with a sterilized cuticle scissors. But no. While I was having vegetable visions, the skirt appeared and disappeared. Again, finally it turned up. The print is gray and rust on cream, which sounds the wallpaper in one of the unfortunate boarding houses that George Orwell visited, but it's actually quite nice. The fabric is so light that I feel it would look skimpy with anything other than a tank, and the tank has to be cotton, because the skirt is a thin cotton. OK, I'm babbling here. Fortunately I have a few ribbed knit tanks in rusty copper-y colors with names that sound like Smoky the Bear officiated at the naming. Since I don't usually introduce my clothes by name, I could care less what they're called. So Flora's a success. Note: based on the position of the label, Flora should open at the left side. But the skirt hangs better if the opening is center front. Flora had quite a few outings last summer, and this summer I'm wondering if Flora might like to be a strapless dress.

Finally, I have fallen in love with still another Hermès scarf. It's not new, I guess I just wasn't paying attention when it first came out. Or I was broke. Or both. The design is called Les Toits de Paris. It just says Paris to me, the girl at the window, the rooftops, the cat... and the colors could be Paris at different times of the year, different times of day. I bought several, one in Paris at 24 Faubourg, the others at different times in different places, on what I call the "secondary market." If I see another color, I may just implode.

*Many probably know this, but just in case: the real Bayeux tapestry is not a tapestry. It is a long and narrow piece of embroidery in yarn on linen that tells the story of William the Conqueror's invasion of England, in great historical and social detail. It was made to be hung around the walls of the cathedral of - Caen? I forget. Name an important cathedral in Normandy. If you drool over the embroidered samplers made by talented little girls in (US) colonial times, you will absolutely have to go lie down when you see this one. Take your time, the delight is in the details.