There’s just something about big earrings that I love. A gal at work showed up with huge silver swirl earrings, three-tiered, nearly resting on her shoulders.
“Love your earrings,” I said.
“You mean my chandeliers?”
I laughed. “I have some chandeliers, but I’m embarrassed to wear them.”
She knew exactly what I was talking about.
I bought the coolest earrings in the world in a little seaside town in central California. They were on sale (of course). I was in love the moment I set eyes on them. Sort of Indian Princess meets Princess Di.
I picked them up. “Only twelve dollars?”
I inspected them. “There must be something wrong with these things.”
I could detect no flaws. I held them up to my ears. Sparkle-y, dangle-y dangles glittered in the sunlight.
I had to have them.
It’s been a year since I carried home my prize, and I still haven’t worn them. Oh, I’ve put them on many times, but the right occasion never seems to present itself. They are too dramatic for church, too casual for a wedding reception, too sparkle-y for work, too obvious for lunch.
At one point, I decided that it wasn’t the occasion that was the problem, it was my outfit. Maybe something subdued, modest even, would be the proper setting for my “chandeliers.” I bought a navy blue turtleneck. Now I just need to find a place to wear the turtleneck.
You’re probably thinking to yourself, “Doesn’t Mari have more important things to worry about?’
Yes! Of course I do . . . which makes my chandelier earring problem so tragic.