A Homeric Journey (for a Rebecca Minkoff black leather wristlet)

If there’s one thing I learned at the Muse and the Marketplace writer’s conference in Boston last weekend, it’s that every story is, in its essence, The Odyssey (yes, the Homer one you read in high school), and has to be about a journey in which the protagonist (in the case of the following story, that would be me) yearns for something, sets out to find it, and ends up in a different place from where she started.

Screen Shot 2014-05-07 at 8.47.51 AMThat’s why it was completely fitting that I should, during a break from the weekend’s workshops on how to write books and sell them (if you missed the conference the answer  is not easily), continue on my quest for a black wristlet. I guess quests need to be completed even when the need for the object has passed. I had actually needed a wristlet (for the uninitiated, that’s a small purse with a strap that you carry on your wrist as opposed to on your shoulder or in your hand as you would a clutch, which I just have to say I personally can’t abide, since clutches often preclude you from holding a glass of wine) the week before, for a wedding. When it hit five hours before the wedding and I had gone to six different stores and still hadn’t found one I liked (in my price range; I saw plenty that were like $200), I settled for a rather junky but cute-enough cross-body bag on sale at Aldo. Buying it broke my rule about holding out for what you really want (in handbags as in life), but what could I do? Sometimes you have to settle (in life, as well as in handbags), so you can move on to the next challenge.

Still, the need for a wristlet stayed with me, even after the wedding.

So when I left the conference, needing to clear my head after a day of workshops on the not-easy business of writing and the even-less easy business of selling your writing, I headed straight to Nordstrom Rack on Boylston Street in Boston. And there it was, a black wristlet made of the softest soft leather. It was Rebecca Minkoff, no less, a brand that I can only consider contemplating thinking about actually affording when it’s on sale. Which it was. So I bought it. I don’t need the bag right now, and in fact, don’t even know when I’ll use it, but somehow this handbag odyssey just had to be finished. I returned to the writers conference with the Rebecca Minkoff wristlet, and a fuller understanding of the need for the protagonist to embark on, and complete, a journey.

Sartorial Literary Moment: Molly Ringwald’s New Novel

I’m just going to put it out there: I own the deluxe “Everything’s Duckie” edition of the 1986 Molly Ringwald movie Pretty in Pink. It is, I would say, in my list of top five—no, make that top three—favorite movies of all time. So it’s with tremendous interest that I see that Molly Ringwald has a written a novel.

I need you now, like I needed you then…

Now, I’m fully aware that of the Molly Ringwald oeuvre, Pretty in Pink was probably not the most popular. To a lot of 80s teens, the redhead will always be Claire Standish, the rich girl who pouts her way through detention in The Breakfast Club. For most, I think she was the overlooked Samantha Baker, whose parents forget her birthday in Sixteen Candles.

But to me she was—and will always remain (high five if you get my reference here)—Andie Walsh in Pretty in Pink. Continue reading