I think I simply decided that it needn’t be a special occasion to wear sparkles and that I could wear it whenever I wanted. And I didn’t have to be an old lady to wear brooches, though sometimes I feel more like an “old lady” rather than a 30-something, what, with me sipping my brandy while knitting or crocheting. And my achy back.
I think this brooch is from my aunt, although it’s possible that it was from my grandmother. It’s hard to remember now. See? Channeling my inner old lady* with my bad memory.
*and by “Old Lady” I do not mean to assume all elderly women crochet, sip digestifs, and have failing memories, of course. It’s just what I hope to become as I age, maybe a slightly better memory though.