frances

my wife and i had the chance to attend a wedding recently. we hadn't been to a wedding in a while. and as they are one of the last of the vanishing social rituals, we weren't exactly sure how to dress. barbara has this great copy of amy vanderbilt's "book of etiquette" from the 1960's which we love to peruse, and of course it all made so much more sense then. there were rules. you knew the rules. and then, if you chose to flout convention, well, that was your call. but there were still rules. and now it seems we have no rules.
so as we prepared for the wedding barbara said "let's do it up. forget whether or not everybody will be there in cowboy boots and hawaiian shirts. let's dress like we're going to a wedding." and so we did. she in a dress she had just made, and me in my old (but still very fine) sharkskin suit. yes, we were ready to cut a rug as we headed out the door. and the wedding was beautiful. the bride was a queen, and the groom was in love with his bride, you could see it on his face.
and as we walked out of the church i spotted a beautiful little lady in a lemon suit and gloves and asked if i could snap her picture. she grabbed my arm and blushed and turned away. "why?!" she asked. "because you're beautiful" i told her. she relented. i asked her name. she said it was frances. and then we told her our dilemma about whether or not to dress up for a wedding, to which she replied "i always do". well said frances.