Monday, January 12, 2009

I'm always rummaging around flea markets and antique shops looking for bits and bobs. I picked up this porcelain glove mold for my necklaces—they made it top heavy at one point.

My sister gave me the bracelet just before I left England, and it went into a zippered travel bag with other costume jewelry. When we got off the boat in New York, they said we couldn't carry our own bags off the ship because of a union thing.

The porter rushed us through the large crowd when suddenly a large divider split us up. It only seemed like a few seconds—he handed us our bags and was gone.

Mine had been slashed. A large decorative hair piece was broken, but nothing was missing.

My first impression of the U.S. had been tarnished.

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