Umbrella-ella-ella

I bought a new umbrella last week.  It wasn't in the market for one or anything, but I found myself in Den Bourse with R’s mom on a very rainy Monday, sans waterproofment.  So I ducked into a HEMA, which is sort of like a smaller, crappier version of Monoprix or Wal-Mart, and headed for the accessories section.  There were a few styles to choose from, but, my eye went directly to the black and white polka-dotted one with the ruffle along the edge (and obviously, the most expensive one).  I don’t know why I was so drawn to it—I’m definitely not a frilly person—but I just knew it was mine.  The plain, compact umbrellas just would not suffice.

I’ve always carried the ubiquitous black, compactable umbrella.   Not because I’m boring or unimaginative, but because the majority of my umbrella usage has been in Paris, where I do my darndest every day not to stand out or in any way scream LOOK-AT-ME-I’M-AN-AMERICAN!  And I always figured a brightly colored or patterned umbrella would be an immediate give-away.  But lately I’ve been drifting more and more toward the idea of an umbrella as a fashion accessory.  Seasonal, of course.  There is also the most lovely umbrella and parasol shop on the Boulevard St. Michele.  Now, normally I avoid the Boul’ Mich like the plague, but sometimes I just find myself there, amidst the hordes of pushy tourists, in front of this shop, drooling.  If I had one of their umbrellas I’d hang it prominently (yet nonchalantly, bien sur) in my front hallway.  If I could afford a parasol I’d find every excuse on earth for a picnic, and other times just lie under its shade, on the grass, and read a book.  Oscar Wilde, if I were feeling particularly cliché.

Anyhow, I am most pleased with my new umbrella.  It might not be one of the couture ones from the Paris shop, but for now it makes me smile, and makes walking in the rain just a little more bearable.