Free People at the bay

Hello brown sugar, and honey on toast. The air is quiet. There are marshmallows by my bread. The sun is here, but it's warmth has hightailed. Watch me kiss the sky, pawn my jacket, and welcome moss birthing flowers. Until then, I snuggle my toes in a feather bed.   I want to decorate the prairies with the green leaf garland. 

As Saturday morning rose with petals of snow. I awoke at dawn to my daily caffeine.  With a happy belly dressed in strawberries, and two feet arched in fur boots, I went downtown.  Whenever I'm a guest of the downtown city, I feel alive.  Caged in cars by Winter, I wait for Summer. Summer, so I can place footing beneath the sky scrapers.  The towers of glass frame, and stone are brimming with city folk.  I've spent many hours,  head bent, watching the cranes, the construction, and the mighty looking men. I've always dreamed of a homestead, or a job in the basement of the city. I want to work by morning, writing, wearing posy fabrics, drinking coffee, as the sun rises by the highest tower. Then by lunch, I will snack on yogurt, fruit, and deli sandwiches.   There is a magic to the basement of the city.  The way shadows are cast. The way people are hurried. The business men in their business suits, and the pencil girls in their pencil skirts. How the downtown becomes a ghost town when workers go home. Birds perch on frail city tree branches.  I dream of an office with pictures of rose-blushed babies,  and spider plants I water.

On Saturday, with pleasure, I attended the Free People event at the Bay.
I wore a dress similar to the white crochet frock found in the Free People catalog. This one is blue. Reminds me of a flower I planted with my mom a few summers ago.   If free were an outfit, I tried to embody it.   A floppy hat to shade my skin from the imaginative sun. A flower blossom belt. And boots made of fur.

The first hour was spent humming tunes, and bowing to beautiful displays.  While I fawned over fabrics with my Ma, we sipped preservative free orange soda, given to us by The Bay.  Dappled with pure cane sugar, and bliss.
The hours were composed of pretty flower tops, ethereal knits, and delicate crochet.  As always, Free People sings lullabies for the Meadow girl. The girl who softly ballets her toes through fields of grass or alfalfa. And finds her heart plucked by garden flowers.     Sadly, Free People isn't as accessible to the Canadian girl.  For most, it requires internet, and credit cards. I've spent many hours, drinking tea, and dipping into their catalogs. But, to my dismay, their shipping prices are otherworldly, so I am thankful for the Bay. 

Imaged here,  the sweater of comfort. Emblazoned in rose flowers.

After browsing, there was a fire in my belly to attach myself to the peaceful cloth.  Me and Ma played silly in the dressing room. As if I was a child of play.   After 30 minutes of falling in love, I decided to wed my wallet to a sweater of gray hue.  I spent forever mulling over which sweater to purchase. As a true girl, the decision was taxing.   As I write to you, I envision a future Bay trip. (( to take the rose sweater home ))

Along with the earthy garments and soda,  there was music, models, and candy. It was as if The Bay knew of my ardor for the jelly bean. A goody bag filled with jelly beans, and I knew of heaven. 

This display tickled me. The antique suitcase brings pleasant remembrances. How it perfectly decorates the spirit of free people. An ode to the old fashions, and the hearts and flowers of the 1970's. 

The entire day delighted my senses.  From dawn, to the moonlit hour. If only sun beams brought spring, me and ma could of had a picnic.     Greatest appreciation for The Bay. Sweet sugar plum hugs,
and wishes for healthy things xx

what i wore

blue dress- Vespucci $15

black floppy hat- jessica simpson  $20
fur boots- atseoul.com korea sponsor

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