She slid into a banquette at Sardi’s, then ran her eyes slowly across the room. Someone lit her cigarette and the gentleman at the next table lowered his gaze from her face to her decollete. Less than subtle. She looked away and threw a small wave to Douglas and his date in a nearby corner. The waiter asked for an autograph and she laughed as she signed her name in lipstick on his apron. She was in gold lame tonight and it was as if all the light in the place was drawn to her…and her necklace.


(I’m taking a leaf out of a friend’s book and creating little stories behind the statement necklaces I make. It’s fun but I’m not nearly as good as she is!)


One thought on “Rosalind

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