Love Letter

Sooo...last weekend in NYC I spent an enjoyable half hour looking at wedding gowns in Town and Country. With my BFF, I asked questions like, "Does every fishtail dress make the girl look hippy?" and "Don't you think *I* deserve a 16-carat pendant to wear on my wedding day?"

We spent at least 5 whole minutes inspecting a photo to determine the construction of a piece of lace. Was it sewn onto a gauze so filmy you couldn't see it? I thought so. Look, I pointed out, there is gauze on the sides, you can see the wrinkles. I thought the gauze continued along the back, and that the piece of ornate lace seemed to float on her back but was really part of an invisible back panel. No, BFF said, I think it might be suspended on invisible filaments, essentially hanging there over her bare back.

This was profound stuff.

But later, as I chewed over every word for the umpteenth time (which I do with every single conversation, usually looking for the part where I said something stoopid and then I obsess about it for weeks/years/decades and convince myself that everyone hates me because I'm a Total Idiot), I realized: who else could I have that conversation with? In our jammies? In the Waldorf? With a bag of homemade peanut brittle? And caramel brought special from Louisville? And home-made marron glaces? And dark chocolate with sea salt? And milk chocolate pastilles? And milk chocolate truffles with milk chocolate ganache? Oops, I've digressed.

So my point is this: when you have a really excellent BFF, things are good. They're good in big ways and in small ways. Sometimes, the really, really small ways can make the whole thing seem extra wonderful.