I get a lot of stuff in the mail. Lots of surprise packages filled with crazy-flavored water in bamboo bottles and totes made out of recycled hybrid vehicles and diet books I cannot justify donating because it would surely impact my go-pass to eternal heavenly peace to send them out into the universe.
And then there are the lovely little packages, wrapped delicately and sometimes accompanied by a carefully handwritten note of thanks for covering a certain event or as a gesture of kindness by someone I've worked with or just some very eager and obviously delightful PR lady or gent straight out of college, in super skinny jeans and with access to the beauty closet (to you, 23-year-old over-eager person with my address in your database and access to the postage machine: I am a little in love with you). These moments make me squeal like the Christmas Day my aunt gave me a fluffy pink faux fur coat (because everyone knows real pink fur is nearly impossible to find in this hemisphere) when I was 14.
I love beautiful things. Although a big pricetag sometimes is attached to the prettiness that sparkles or has five-inch heels attached or slides perfectly across my hips, it isn't always. I am perfectly happy with a great pair of $10 earrings from Target or the $7 gray brocade circle skirt I bought at a consignment shop in college and delight to find at the back of my closet every few years. I can work a TJ Maxx like nobody's business. But I will probably also covet certain thousand-dollar shoe designers for the rest of my days. A splurge is perfection once in a while -- that drool-worthy handbag or paycheck-staggering bra that will only be dared to be worn once or twice.
I do adore when the center space in the Venn diagram between bargain and gasp-ensive is a tiny token from a favorite brand that whispers its spirit. A little luxury. A token that makes you happy because it's just enough of a really good, lined-in-silk and stitched-leather kind of thing.
That's what usually comes in these heavenly boxes, battered about by FedEx like they have no idea of the tiny treasure inside.
My two favorites lately are made by Kate Spade. First, the Doodles Pen Necklace, which I havent' actually written with but did wear with that intention while I was at Mom 2.0 a few weeks ago.I would have never chosen this for myself, but oh, what joy in getting it as a gift.
(I found it listed on eBay for about $40.)
Here I am with the divine Bad Kitty, looking like I am about to transcribe notes on her very academic lecture. Very businessy, indeed.
The other bit of happiness came in the form of the Kate Spade Idiom Bangle. I love that mine is lined in teal, I color I adore but don't choose nearly enough, and is inscribed with the words "Break the ice." This is a good reminder for me, particularly following this conference that I went to without the woobie of my dear friend Foodmomiac, and could have chosen to be shy me and instead had a ball with some women I've been friends with and greatly admired but have also longed to know better. Perhaps it will be my new piece of power jewelry to wear to events I know could go either way but wish to fluorish rather than wallflower.
(This one is $28 on katespade.com)
As if meant to be, it also matches the manicure I happen to be wearing today. So that's nice, too.
The next time I buy a gift for a girlfriend or teacher or someone I just want to remind that they are special and worth a little luxury of their own, I am going to remember these expertly tied boxes and sweet somethings that are fun to have and that they (like me) would never buy for themselves.