My best friend A was in town this weekend, she's been off and away at the Grad School. So the two of us spent Saturday together doing what we do: going shopping and watching Chick Flicks. I had to get material for my obi, and I settled on a pale orchid purple. I got a few other pieces, too, that I didn't exactly need, and enough paper to keep a doctoral theses alive. The yukata jst needs to be hemmed, and the obi sewn, and it will be finished.
We saw Becoming Jane. It was wonderful, fairly accurate and slightly depressing. A was certain that the amount of kissing that went on in the film wasn't the least bit accurate for the time. I argued that it was improprietous, née scandalous, to mention anything concerning, heaven forbid, a fiery romance. Just because they didn't write about it doesn't mean it didn't happen. Case in point, the two of us were living and breathing, the details of which, especially at that time, were not polite for conversation, civil or otherwise. A laughed and said I was probably right. I knew that Austin had never married, and I was very glad that the film makers decided against changing history. As Wistley said, the good seldom have a happy ending. Sigh.