sterday, I'm walking along the European-styled street promenade at Santana Row across from my new retail chain favorite (I'm more of a boutique gal), Anthropologie, and the pair strolling in front of me start a conversation as they walk past a potted profusion of lavender agapanthus and the Crepe & Brioche French Artisan Bakery's stall at the organic farmer's market.

The thirty-something woman turns to her frien
d and gasps, "I am dying to, but I cannot go into Anthropologie!" She's resisting the urge to browse its "latticework chaise lounges, velvet patchwork pillows, ornate birdcages, leather-bound books, sari fabrics, teak benches...vintage-inspired cardigan sweaters...Chinese pajamas and cobwebby camisoles."

Me, I gave up resistance -- and I'm talking far b
eyond resisting enchanting lace skirts, guava scented candles and Portugeuse china too.

I feel young at heart these days and, yet, when I walk into Anthropologie, I feel younger still. A sense of wonder and enchantment welcomes you as soon as you open the door. Music streams, a couple sits side-by-side on an antique sofa immersed in a coffee-table book of Leonardo da Vinci's complete works, a mother and her teenage daughter with their coiffeured black poodle buy a whimsical sun dress evocative of Provence for Mom.


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