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Texas Sisters Mannequin thin + Texas big-hair = money. Today she wears Armani with grace and I'm hoping the masking tape will hold my skirt hem in place. She lives to shop and I agreed to meet her for my annual birthday treat. Society matron and gypsy mendicant "do" Neiman Marcus and I fuss about radiation risks from Dior mists. She points to a red power suit, matching bag, and shoes with towering stiletto heels. I decline and finally choose a shawl, hecho a mano de Espana: magnifico. I could have found one at the flea market and spent the four twenties on CD's but she looks contented. We air kiss goodbye, I hie to my car, back to the far side. In my rear-view mirror, big- hair unrelenting, she stands alone, staring and peering intently to savor the show in the window of Lord & Taylor. |
Additional Notes:
Poem #3 which completes the Texas trilogy.
Dedicated with greatest affection to my sister.
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