The Blue Poppy Poncho, sunglasses on, at home
Journal · Wearing it

What happens when your grandmother borrows your poncho

A few honest warnings, from an afternoon with two women who have never once dressed down.

Waving from her chair in the Blue Poppy Poncho

IYou will not get it back. She’ll say she’s just trying it on. She is not just trying it on.

Sunglasses on, indoors

IIThe sunglasses stay on. Indoors, at lunch, quite possibly in bed. Colour this strong needs managing.

Taking a call on the old telephone

IIIEvery phone call becomes a performance. She will take it standing, fringe arranged, as if the line were being filmed.

With her granddaughter

IVThe grandchildren will want one. One size, shaped to drape. Technically they can have it in about twenty years.

Holding white and pink roses

VFlowers will start arriving. Nobody is quite sure who from.

The good china on the tea table

VITea becomes an occasion. The good china comes out. So does the silk.

Blowing out the birthday candles together

VIIEvery birthday is now black tie. Candles optional. Fringe essential.

It was always going to end up hers. The Blue Poppy Poncho, and the others, which are every bit as hard to get back.