I went to a real college in the sense that I have a legitimate B.F.A. but it wasn’t a real college by typical measures. There were only about 25 students in my graduating class and I vaguely remember the promotional literature saying something about the average student being 26, very old to someone straight out of high school. One of those olds was a 40-ish (for all I know he was like 32 at the time and just seemed old to 18-year-old me) guy, a faux naïf painter who had a ranch or something somewhere out in the country, I don’t know exactly because I wasn’t friends with him like lots of our fellow freshman. He bugged me, though I forget why now. He acted like an untrained outsider but I don’t think he was and he sent back his food the one time I went to breakfast with him and a few others. People who send their food back freak me out. He was married, which you wouldn’t know from the way he spent an awful lot of time with young female students. His wife did come to visit at some point and summed up what was wrong with his bohemian shtick. She had short sensible mom hair and an Ann Taylor shopping bag. The epitome of yuppie-dom to me at the time.
Claudine was on More “Fast Food My Way” a few weeks ago. I’d nearly forgotten about Jacques Pepin’s daughter who I’d watch kind of cook awkwardly along with him on “Cooking With Claudine” in the mid-‘90s. I wondered what she was up to now. I could never figure out her age because she looked naturally mature. It appears that she’s now in Denver but did a stint in Portland working at Ken's Artisan Bakery. Her fiancé convinced her to leave the East Coast.
I brought a light jacket, cardigan and tights with me to Portland because I’m no dummy. Even though it hit the ‘90s back in the city while I was at the coat, I knew I’d be greeted at PDX with dreary, gray 60-degree drizzle. My J. Crew Outlet sweater seemed too soft and delicate. I needed something more substantial that wasn’t fleece. While waiting for our room to be ready at The Nines (which bizarrely cost less than the Holiday Inn Express in Eugene) I popped into Pioneer Place across the street and bought an inoffensive long, cuffed-sleeved black sweater (pictured) on sale at Ann Taylor Loft. Now I’m a grown up.
Next frontier: Chico’s.