Jack, Claire-Adele and I were at a political fundraiser this weekend where we met Sally Jewell, former President of REI and Secretary of the Interior. Jack knows Sally's son so they chatted about their common connections.
After a few minutes, Sally pointed at my black sweater and asked, "Is that an Ibex?"
"Yes," I said. Ibex makes wool clothes for work and outdoors.
"I thought so," she said. "Did you get it at REI?"
"No. I got it at the Ibex store in U Village," I said.
Only in Seattle could I be at a posh party and someone would recognize an Ibex sweater. People here wouldn't necessarily recognize Chanel, Versace or St. Johns, because so few people get that dressed up out here. Ibex? You bet. And I could wear Ibex to a fancy party and no one looked at me askance.
Driving home, Jack and I thought it was hilarious that Sally Jewell recognized my sweater.
"She really knows the shit on the shelves," he said.
This blog is about the little and big thoughts that pop into my head. I once read that when Flannery O'Connor walked into a bookstore, she would want to edit her published works with a red pen. In the digital world, we have the luxury of tweaking things up after we've hit the publish button. I can be a perfectionist/procrastinator, where waiting for the ideal means little gets done. Here I will share what is not--and likely will never be--perfect.
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