"Teddy from the Country Hounds is coming by to get permission for the hunt to cross her fields again this fall.
Purely a formality. She loves to watch the horses jump her fine stone walls. The riders are always polite. They always close the gate.
Teddy will take her to the club again for dinner. Cardboard shrimp, filet of sole...it's not about the food, of course.
She'll ask him in after for an Old Fashioned. She knows how he likes it, that puddle of pure hundred proof on top.
They'll wake up tomorrow with splitting headaches.
Great fun."
Not a word of costume in it, but this is one of those entries from a mid-2000s J. Peterman catalog that were too good not to save. It's called "Evening in Connecticut", and I think it was for some sort of long corduroy skirt, but I honestly have completely forgotten. Does it really matter? There are a million things for which this could be the "description".
The little slip of paper has been with me for years, on the wall at college in Maine, next to the photo of my grandparents at my age on my pinboard here, because it's just....so much. Gosh, how I love it. It reminds me of a Connecticut that never really existed--except in the J. Peterman catalog, and possibly the imagination of the early-20th century middle class.
Did you picture this woman when you read it? What was she wearing?
Purely a formality. She loves to watch the horses jump her fine stone walls. The riders are always polite. They always close the gate.
Teddy will take her to the club again for dinner. Cardboard shrimp, filet of sole...it's not about the food, of course.
She'll ask him in after for an Old Fashioned. She knows how he likes it, that puddle of pure hundred proof on top.
They'll wake up tomorrow with splitting headaches.
Great fun."
Not a word of costume in it, but this is one of those entries from a mid-2000s J. Peterman catalog that were too good not to save. It's called "Evening in Connecticut", and I think it was for some sort of long corduroy skirt, but I honestly have completely forgotten. Does it really matter? There are a million things for which this could be the "description".
The little slip of paper has been with me for years, on the wall at college in Maine, next to the photo of my grandparents at my age on my pinboard here, because it's just....so much. Gosh, how I love it. It reminds me of a Connecticut that never really existed--except in the J. Peterman catalog, and possibly the imagination of the early-20th century middle class.
Did you picture this woman when you read it? What was she wearing?