I like to think of my brain as a problem-solving sort of brain, except that once it has a task there is no calling it off, even if the problem is solved. For instance, two years ago my brother got married. Standing up as his best person, I needed something butter yellow to wear. That sounds easy enough, but I looked for months and there was nothing the right color, nothing the right cut, nothing the right mood, nothing the right size. Eventually I found myself in a yellow sleeveless shirt and black capri pants and there were lots of pictures and my brother was married and all was well. Except that I still couldn't pass a yellow thing in a store without giving it a second look. Except that my brain was still looking for the perfect yellow dress to wear to my beloved brother's wedding.
In the period of time while I was visiting Dallas but didn't live here yet, there was a jewelry store called The Shining which displayed its wears on taxidermied desert animals. The jewelry wasn't really my style, but I admired their spirit, and I brought it up whenever anyone asked me what there was of interest to be found in distant, dusty Dallas.
The Shining closed, even as I was opening the moving boxes in the new apartment, but something else has cropped up in its place. Milk & Honey is one of those rare clothing boutiques that has both snazzy new duds and a price point so reasonable it is its own conversation piece. And it is here that I find the butter-yellow summer-wedding dress I've been searching for. It is a sleeveless light cotton with a thin tie at the waist and a big butter-yellow cloth flower on the left shoulder strap. It might not actually have been formal enough for a member of the wedding party, but it was an early afternoon wedding in Southern California, and at this point I'm going to split hairs. This is a dress that makes my brain think, "We found it!" And just in time to celebrate their two-year anniversary--which, by the way, actually is the "cotton anniversary."