Walking on the Upper West Side, I saw this
tiny lady -- an old 70, I'd guess -- in this incredible dress. It was cotton pique
with large flowers on it in a wonderful range of colors -- and each covered button was a
different color.
I said to her, "Great dress," and
she said, "Thank you." Then she came close to me and said: "A Saks
Fifth Avenue dress -- I got it for $3. At my age, I need to economize. I
bought it at a thrift store. I'm not long for this world." She pointed
to a woman wearing a very tight, stretchy dress with a visible panty line clinging to an
enormous behind. "When I see a dress like that, it hastens my end," she
said.
I asked her how she found her great dress.
"People ask me for advice all the time, but I need to keep it to myself,"
she said, making her hands into fists and placing them on her heart. "I need it
for me."
A young man walked by, and she pointed him
out to me. "He held open the door for me in my building once. I remember
people who are kind to me." She then continued as if we had known each other a
long time. "I can feel my end coming. I'm not myself. I ran into a
friend at the laundromat recently and she said, 'Lil, what's wrong?' I know I don't look
like myself. I've been around here long enough."
I told her I hoped not, because we needed her
to wear great dresses in New York. She said, "Thank you for your
compliment." I wished her the best of luck, and we parted ways.
