In honor of the cherry, red bud, magnolia, crabapple and so many other deciduous trees showing off their magnificent rosy blossoms at this time of year, I pulled a truly vintage dress in deep raspberry out of my closet to wear to the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra’s performance of Tchaikovsky’s highly popular Symphony No. 5 last night. Falling in delicate folds of fuchsia polyester, a loose cowl attached to the shoulders on either side of this feminine pelage drapes across a front placket of pink satin to add interest at the neckline. I bought this soft beauty by Alicia in the 1970s when I worked at JCPenney in northern California and had not put it on in over twenty years -- until last night. It still fit me perfectly, needing only a skinny belt and some jewelry to set it off.
For shoes, I chose up-to-the-minute, sky-high, nude platform pumps by Call It Spring for JCPenney that I bought last year and then realized that I had no suitable belt or purse to go with them. A thorough search through my extensive belt collection turned up a skinny beige suede belt with a gold metal buckle, also from the 1970s, which I called into service while making a mental note to add a neutral belt to my wardrobe at the next opportunity. A review of my handbags revealed a darling triangular-shaped wristlet in copper beads by In’s, which was a recent Christmas gift from Joyce, the mother of my best friend, Kari. The copper beads took on a slightly pink cast when paired with the dress. Perfect.
|Pink gifts from Joyce, the mother of my best friend, Kari|
I added only an heirloom pink beaded necklace that belonged to my grandmother, a pair of dangling gold earrings with deep pink teardrop-shaped rubies by Stauer which were a birthday gift from Joyce last September and an elegant bracelet of pearlescent beads, also a recent gift from Joyce. The beaded bracelet echoed the pink pearlescent buttons at the cuffs of the dress.
To ward off the chill of a pressing cold front, I eagerly donned the winter-white, fox-trimmed full-length leather coat Joyce bestowed upon me just two weeks ago as a surprise reward for losing 70 pounds last year. My early spring outfit was complete.
As good as the Tchaikovsky performance was, the highlight of last night’s concert was, for me, an Olympic-caliber performance by world-acclaimed percussion soloist Colin Currie (http:/www.colincurrie.com), who burned up the stage floor racing back and forth behind and in front of conductor Marin Alsop, a musical force in her own right, as he scurried from bass drum, bongos, brake drum, castanets, clave, cowbell and crotales to cymbal, gong, resonant bowl, vibraphone, temple blocks, timbales, tom toms, wood blocks, and marimba in front of the full orchestra which was playing just as fervently as he was. Colin got a lengthy standing ovation for his amazing performance. I was spellbound.
A quiet dinner after the concert at Baltimore’s new Meet 27, a BYOB (until they get their liquor license) restaurant pairing an eclectic assortment of dishes from South Asia and the Caribbean with traditional American classics, rounded out the marvelous evening (www.meet27.com). I was tickled pink.