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I am UmberDove.

And by that, I mean an artist.  One who hears stories in the wind, who paints because it is what her soul tells her to do, who smiths because the muse moves through her fingertips, who loves nothing more than the promise of an unexplored trail, the sound of the ocean in her ears, and scent of a serious cup of coffee.


The Friday Confessional: February 4th, 2011


Confession Number 71 :
I'm addicted to the buttons.  As in, full blown cardi-a-holic.  I figured the actual number was just in the teens, but in a fit of honesty, I counted and friends, it's in the upper twenties.
(Thank God BC is out of town and probably not reading this post)
(Also thank you God that we do not share a closet, and therefore he has little reason to add up the sweaters)

I began a discussion yesterday (on the ol' facebook) asking just how many cardigans one could have while still maintaining some sense of preservation and based on the comments received, the answer is:
(drum roll please)
It was like a support group for cardi-druggies - those of us strung out on cotton and cashmere, whose fingers start to shake if we go too many days without buttoning up.  I felt like a needed a donut or something afterwards (instead I had a small roll slathered with lemon marmalade, but more on that later).
One of the most brilliant outcomes of that little fess-up is a new site, put together on the spot by Miss Désirée Fawn, aptly titled The Cardigan Confessional (name curtesy of my Em, also of the cardigan-persuassion) where one can submit and peruse the best in cardigan imagery and acceptance.  
The best thing about a cardi-addiction?  You're in an elite group of women who know how to look smashing.
I feel absolved of my stripes.
Your turn ladies
Fess it up!