equestrian look, the farmhouse style, the Shabby Chic thing, and a room filled with yummy Country French treasures)—-I zoomed in on a trio of French apothecary jars. They weren’t arranged all together; I spotted one jar in one room and the other two in another. But they were incredible. I’d had my eye out for some for a few years, ever since seeiSometimes it takes a girlfriend in order to have a really good shopping trip. It takes having someone who knows you very well either urging you forward on a contemplated splurge—-or holding you back before you plunge ahead on one she knows you’ll live to regret.

Such was the case last Wednesday, when my oldest childhood friend, Leslie, came to visit us from Philadelphia. Her goal was not to shop, but to see our son (who is battling leukemia)firsthand, and to lend both emotional and physical support as needed. As it just so happened that Nick had a built-in break in his chemo protocol, we had more time on our hands than we had previously anticipated. So we filled the days with long morning coffees, long lunches, and long walks. And-—on the last day-—more fun shopping than I’d had in a long time.

By the time we walked past the resident designer at the Lillian August Warehouse, we were both pretty much in shopping mode. Or at least she was. Part of her “Ridgefield ritual,” she started getting geared up for her Lillian August experience while sipping her skinny chai latte at the Starbuck’s next door. With shopping excursions there in years past yielding some amazing finds, a stop to the warehouse is always at the top of her list. And this year was no exception.

While she was waltzing around the place-—it’s expansive and set up with themed rooms (the Ralph Lauren equestrian look, the farmhouse style, the Shabby Chic thing, and a room filled with yummy Country French treasures)—-I zoomed in on a trio of French apothecary jars. They weren’t arranged all together; I spotted one jar in one room and the other two in another. But they were incredible. I’d had my eye out for some for a few years, ever since seein

to visit us from Philadelphia. Her goal was not to shop, but to see our son (who is battling leukemia)firsthand, and to lend both emotional and physical support as needed. As it just so happened that Nick had a built-in break in his chemo protocol, we had more time on our hands than we had previously anticipated. So we filled the days with long morning coffees, long lunches, and long walks. And-—on the last day-—more fun shopping than I’d had in a long time.

By the time we walked past the resident designer at the Lillian August Warehouse, we were both pretty much in shopping mode. Or at least she was. Part of her “Ridgefield ritual,” she started getting geared up for her Lillian August experience while sipping her skinny chai latte at the Starbuck’s next door. With shopping excursions there in years past yielding some amazing finds, a stop to the warehouse is always at the top of her list. And this year was no exception.

While she was waltzing around the place-—it’s expansive and set up with themed rooms (the Ralph Lauren equestrian look, the farmhouse style, the Shabby Chic thing, and a room filled with yummy Country French treasures)—-I zoomed in on a trio of French apothecary jars. They weren’t arranged all together; I spotted one jar in one room and the other two in another. But they were incredible. I’d had my eye out for some for a few years, ever since seei

rning coffees, long lunches, and long walks. And-—on the last day-—more fun shopping than I’d had in a long time.

By the time we walked past the resident designer at the Lillian August Warehouse, we were both pretty much in shopping mode. Or at least she was. Part of her “Ridgefield ritual,” she started getting geared up for her Lillian August experience while sipping her skinny chai latte at the Starbuck’s next door. With shopping excursions there in years past yielding some amazing finds, a stop to the warehouse is always at the top of her list. And this year was no exception.

While she was waltzing around the place-—it’s expansive and set up with themed rooms (the Ralph Lauren equestrian look, the farmhouse style, the Shabby Chic thing, and a room filled with yummy Country French treasures)—-I zoomed in on a trio of French apothecary jars. They weren’t arranged all together; I spotted one jar in one room and the other two in another. But they were incredible. I’d had my eye out for some for a few years, ever since seei

t experience while sipping her skinny chai latte at the Starbuck’s next door. With shopping excursions there in years past yielding some amazing finds, a stop to the warehouse is always at the top of her list. And this year was no exception.

While she was waltzing around the place-—it’s expansive and set up with themed rooms (the Ralph Lauren equestrian look, the farmhouse style, the Shabby Chic thing, and a room filled with yummy Country French treasures)—-I zoomed in on a trio of French apothecary jars. They weren’t arranged all together; I spotted one jar in one room and the other two in another. But they were incredible. I’d had my eye out for some for a few years, ever since seei

equestrian look, the farmhouse style, the Shabby Chic thing, and a room filled with yummy Country French treasures)—-I zoomed in on a trio of French apothecary jars. They weren’t arranged all together; I spotted one jar in one room and the other two in another. But they were incredible. I’d had my eye out for some for a few years, ever since seeing a pair at a tony antiques shop a couple towns over. My pockets weren’t deep enough then, and although they’re still fairly shallow, they held a Mother’s Day check which seemed to be burning the proverbial hole. Money was meeting imagination in a big way, and the momentum caused by this combination was on the verge of igniting a commercial explosion.

Leslie was busy lining stuff on the counters while I was carrying delicate apothecary jars from one end of the warehouse to the other. Being a visual person, I needed to see how they looked stacked up next to each other. Envisioning them filled with all sorts of wonderfulness-—fruits or soaps or loofahs or shells or stones—-they were now nestled quite comfortably in my brain, as well as anywhere from my dining room to my master bath to the newly renovated kitchen that is still a few years down the road. I only needed my girlfriend’s ok, and I would be “there.”

She was all over it. Loved the vision. Loved the look. Loved the lines. Loved the price.

Purchasing these things was an event. It required a quick trip to the bank around the corner (they were an unexpected find, and, even selling at warehouse prices, were still more expensive than what I would have hoped). It required George, the sensitive and thoughtful designer who had offered his help the minute we walked in the front door, to be in on the whole “wher