Report from the Land of the Living Dead

The report is that they mostly all died, all those Palm Beach socialites!  In their place are old midwestern guys in levis wearing tractor caps and their doughy wives in sensible cardigans and white orthodic shoes.  They walk up and down Worth Ave. looking in the windows and staring at the non English speakers who now make up the bulk of the populace.  So, in a wave, we all surge up one side and down the other looking in the windows at ourselves looking at the diamonds and jewels.  And there are many of those, one boring window after another of sparkly things posed on velvet, and all beautiful and boring simply because of their numbers.  No one goes into the shops, and the sales help all lingers by the doorways.  parked along the street are Bentley's in every color, but the one that stands out the most is the convertible with the hand written sign in the front window offering it for sale.  Seems that if someone owns a Bentley that they could find a better way to sell a car, just sayin'.

OK, so there is one shop along this vast street of dreams that I have always loved because it's chock full of embellished clothing and accessories that are hand made and include vintage pieces, ethnic pieces, and just plain beautiful fabrics.  Of course everything in there is exactly twice as much money as it would be if it were outrageously expensive so I just visit and touch stuff.  Like today I was touching everything in the store starting at the front window display and working my way to the back when I was thunderstruck.
Gobsmacked.
Hit aside the head.
I was in love, or OK, even better than love, I was in LUST over this bag:

A pale gray leather bag, handmade, with (be still my heart) red handles just the right height to sling across the shoulder, and  oh 0h 0h 0hhhhhh.... pewtery IRON PRINTS all over it, yes, several different irons too.  Was this meant for me or what!  Needless to say, it's now mine, and the devil will use my soul wisely I am sure.  I stuffed my former favorite bag into it and hit the streets.  TY thinks it ridiculous, but I think it's perfect, it's me.  I am so excited over this bag that I think I feel like ohmigawd ironing!

We'll just call it all irony...