The June Anthropologie catalog looks like a Southern Gothic novel come to life, compete with dilapidated porches, lonesome shores and shoes fit for hardscrabble dusty roads. All that’s missing is the story… So we wrote one.
She sat on the dock, by the rustling reeds, and as the blazing sun sank into the shimmering sea, she could hear them fighting.
She could remember happier times. She could remember afternoons on the porch, lemonade, the redheaded neighbor’s dog and how Mama would curl her fingers around a knife and shell peas so fast and laugh and laugh. What would Mama say if she knew how bad they were fighting? What would Mama say if she knew they were leaving?
(Shifting Buttons skirt, $118)
Addy’s dress hung in the window, ghostly pale and threatening. It was a dress not meant for the crumbling house and the gritty shore beyond. It was a dress not meant for Yoknapatawpha County. It was a dress meant for tomorrow, meant for traveling and the city and champagne and fellas with fancy cars.
(Time Gone By Dress, $128)
Frankie liked to touch Addy’s things, lipstick from Atlanta, face powder from New York, perfume from France, and imagine that she could be someone else, someone more interesting, someone more like Addy. Frankie wanted to go to Paris, where everyone smelled nice and no one had to shell peas and no one’s sister just up and left with a no-good husband who shouts all the time. Frankie could sense the world out there turning, spinning, full of French perfume, but where Frankie was everything was still, so very still, just standing still.
(Tiny Windows dress, $118; New Growth clips, $15 each)
There were lots of things on the beach, sand crabs, bottlecaps, an empty Coke bottle, some driftwood, but Addy and Quentin weren’t there. Frankie tried to pretend she wasn’t looking for them and just kept her eyes on the waves, as the bubbles washed up over her toes and then retreated back to the sea, only to come back again.
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