I made the title of this blog “Perfect, Sarah, You Are A Genius!” because ordinarily when Isabel speaks to me, even in email, it goes more like: “Sarah, you look like a hippie! At least make an effort!”
Here is why I am a genius, at least according to Isabel. During a recent research mission, Isabel asked me to find out about debutantes in San Francisco, circa 1950. After Googling the subject and making a few phone calls. I dug up some vintage photos and a fine place to hold a ball—both in terms of history and style—and it made her happy. Not my appearance, mind you, but my work. That was a nice moment. Perhaps to reward me, Isabel included this debutante story:
I was a debutante once. I am not kidding. And I had the most gorgeous white satin gown. For my second ball I had an aquamarine gown with rubber lining for fake breasts because mine were too small. When dancing, the boy held me tight and the rubber things were pushed in and became concave. I looked at my chest in horror. I took a deep breath, trying to push them out. And out they came—with the most embarrassing POP!
Occasionally you need to pat yourself on the back. I learned this from hanging around my daughter’s third grade classroom. When the kids know the answer to a question, they pat themselves on the back to acknowledge their feat, all without interrupting the lesson. I know I am interrupting myself here, but oh well…At least you get a charming story from Isabel that otherwise would not have been told!