In: Polkadots. Out: Lace.
Sob. Another coveted belonging destroyed, this time by the elements.
Last year I was holidaying in Vietnam, the end of my trip coinciding with the start of the monsoon season.
Of course the rains started early and I have not a few memories of being caught out in them, most notably riding down a mountain through a dangerous rockslide on the back of a motorbike. A more pleasant recollection: sitting inside an icecream parlour, sipping on delicious lychee syrup with orange icecream, and watching Pasteur St become so flooded the water quite literally lapped at my toes.
[I was] sitting inside an icecream parlour … watching Pasteur St become so flooded the water quite literally lapped at my toes.
I had already bought and discarded one nasty umbrella, and in Saigon I realised I needed to purchase another. I found a pretty fold-up umbrella with a lace pattern in blue and beige – right up my alley – in MNG.
About a week after I returned home, there was a wild storm in Melbourne. I unfortunately chose that very afternoon for a jaunt into the city to replenish my art supplies. Foolishly I opened my new umbrella in the midst of a gale: a disastrous decision. One of the spokes immediately snapped.
In denial, (I hate it when souvenirs break), I repaired the damage by means of wire and some gaffa tape. Since then, a second spoke has snapped, and I was forced to admit it was done for.
A ludicrously frivolous replacement has been found: candy pink, with ruffles and polka dots. The label: Michiko Koshino; the source: a new boutique called Lion in Love. I am almost scared to use it; it is as fragile and light as its predecessor, and probably doomed to be as short-lived.
…sometimes I feel like Mary Poppins, about to take off in a high wind…
Ever opened a vintage umbrella? The spokes are made from steel, and there are always twice as many as their modern counterparts. Alright, so sometimes I feel like Mary Poppins, about to take off in a high wind, but they are robust.
They just don’t make them like they used to. Yet another example of the capitalist conspiracy against consumers: make ’em breakable, and replaceable. If it wasn’t for the fact we desperately need the rain, I’d be praying for good weather!