Breakfast at Tiffany’s, a set on Flickr.
Please forgive a second post on this topic; the software program I used to generate this photo gallery was a free trial and is going away in a few days; I didn’t want to take the chance on this gorgeous array of jewelry disappearing from the site. I’ve recreated the gallery in another, permanent program.
Anyway, you can’t have too much of a good thing, right?
Thanks for your patience!
Last month I roused myself earlier than usual to drive one mile south of the James River to Richmond’s Stony Point Fashion Park. Like Audrey Hepburn’s Holly Golightly, I was going to have breakfast at Tiffany’s. Unlike Audrey/Holly, I was not wearing a black evening gown, opera gloves, clusters of diamonds in my hair, or pearls draped around my neck. (Holly, no doubt, was clad in rhinestones and paste. Audrey would have been diamonds and real pearls all the way.) I did wear black, though. With a camera draped around my neck.
I had been invited, as The Midlife Second Wife, to a special breakfast for members of the media in honor of Tiffany & Company’s grand opening. It was extremely well-attended; I’m told that of 34 people invited, 32 came. And this on a morning when President Barack Obama was to speak at the University of Richmond. After a week of nonstop rain, the day dawned warm and sunny—the better to reflect all the jewels, my dear.
The film Breakfast at Tiffany’s, based on Truman Capote’s novella, is so much a part of the cultural fabric that I almost expected to be served Danish at this affair. But no, the offerings were far more sedate and delicate—trays of waffle-and-chicken- and ham-and- biscuit-canapés circulated about the room on trays, carried by a solicitous catering staff, who also supplied flutes of orange and grapefruit juice. But with what surely was a wink and a nod to the store’s flagship city, the hosts also served up miniature potato latkes—topped with salmon, the tiniest dollop of sour cream, and two quarter-inch blades of chives. The coffee was local—Blanchard’s—and everything was quite delicious.
And oh yes! The jewelry! Bright, lustrous, sparkling … see for yourself. Here is a sampling from the photos I took this morning. And no blog about remarriage would be complete without a photo of the famous Tiffany engagement ring. The hand in the picture is mine. I was obliged to leave the ring behind, of course. Luckily, I had an equally gorgeous one to slip back on.