Dressed for Shopping
Today the plan was to spend a few hours with my granddaughter while my daughter did some freelance PR work. I arrived in Hollywood at 10:15 AM and found Lottie in full dress-up mode. Courtesy of her Uncle Colin, she was dressed in a pink, multi-layered tulle dress, blue beads 'round her neck and a bracelet that quickly became misplaced. Lottie asked if she might go out with me dressed as she was and maintained that she would be plenty warm, and would take a cardigan. Jane thankfully nixed that plan and got her dressed while Miss L and I tried to figure out just what we'd be doing.
"I really want a bikini, Nana and a pair of pink clogs. They sell them at Nordstrom's." Okay, that's a plan, I thought. We'll head off to The Grove
, a truly Southern Californian Disneyesque take on an outdoor pedestrian mall. Built adjoining the old The Farmers' Market
going to The Grove for a lot of Hollywood kids, is like going to Central Park for Manhattan kids. There's the huge dancing fountain, the double-decker trolley car that runs up and down announcing Pottery Barn Kids
and every other shop with equal doses of solemnity and enthusiasm that The Louvre or the Tour d'Eiffel would be announced while on a tour of Paris. Lottie and I sat up top in the front seat. We had to move pretty sprightly but managed to beat a grandmother and her grandson to this primo seat due to his minor meltdown because his Spiderman backpack strap snagged this elderly man's walking stick. We rode up and down with my granddaughter pointing out the most interesting sights. We hopped off at the top end (by the valet parking...how LA) and headed over to Nordstrom's to check out their bikinis and clogs. I'm not really the kind of grown-up who likes big girl clothes on little girls, but I figured if I can find something that isn't too bikiniesque, this could be okay. Lottie led me over to the kids' shoe department first. I gravitated towards the Stride Rites which are hardly what I'd call serious, anymore. It's not like they're all leather-soled and rigid lethal weapons like they were when my kids were small. I picked up a hot pink (HOT PINK STRIDE RITES???) pair of shoes and showed them to Lottie. She solemnly shook her head to the negative and picked up a hotter pink pair of clogs. Clogs...what a stupid shoe for a kid. They're like baby high heels. Still, the very patient saleslady measured Lottie's feet (almost a 9) and brought out the Barbie pink clogs. Slipping them on Miss L's feet, she suggested that she take a wander. Charlotte refused. I explained there's no way we could possibly buy a pair of shoes that she won't even walk in. The wee lassie then said, "Maybe a smaller pair, Nana." The saleslady brought a size 8 and, here's where I really think there has to be a God, told us they didn't have any in pink, just blue. I smiled with relief. Lottie walked around the shoe department in the size eights. Her feet looked so tiny...almost too small to support her little body and she couldn't take her eyes off those shoes... those beautiful shoes. But, sadly, none in pink. YIPPIE!
And so we nipped over to the swim suits, found a bikini that really is more a tankini AND in varying shades of pink, and then headed over to LACMA
for some artier activities. It was a great, girlie kind of day.