You Might Vant to Smooze with My Aunt Hilda

Still puffy from antibiotics for my extracted tooth and woozy from pain medication, I was again gifted by the world’s foremost hoarder who coincidently lives in the apartment in my basement and gave birth to my husband in the autumn after the “Summer of Love”(would that make it the "Fall of Love"??)

Today’s treasure: braided leather belt formerly owned by her ex-husband, Doug’s father.

I thought it had a very boho vibe (or is that the hydrocodone talking?) so I paired it with my trusty (and forgiving) Abercrombie shorts, a brown tank and an off white Shmate.

For those of you who don’t know Yiddish I provide the following definition...

Shmate: A rag; a worthless anything, usually a piece of clothing; You're not planning on going out in that Shmate, are you? Oy Vey.

So now if you are ever magically transported to the Lower East Side of Manhattan, circa 1912, you’ll know the language.