Knee Deep

I happened into one of the more gentrified areas of Pilsen a couple weeks ago.  Don't ask what I was doing there because it's not any of your business.  Let's just say I was meeting a Dark Haired Stranger for lunch after a morning of boutiquing the jewelry I made.  As is our usual, we had lunch at a moderately priced restaurant and went for a turn about the park.

What can I say?  We both like walks, it gives us an excuse not to run home immediately, and it's a good way to lengthen any outing and prevent 2 pounds of Mexican food from sticking to your thighs.  I'm not trying to make the Twerk Team any time soon, so, yeah.  Walks.

As we walked, we passed by some interesting new shops that had opened in the area.  Being a social person, I try not to be horribly rude, but I was so entranced by the vintage high waisted shorts in the window, that the Dark Haired Stranger noticed and immediately suggested we go inside.  The name of this shop was called Knee Deep.

It smelled like a well-kept attic and was chock full of clothes, trinkets, and accessories from the 50's onward.  Everything from authentic Chinese jackets, embellished jackets from the 80s, and jewelry so old the companies are no longer in operation.  The items I wanted were too small to fit my rear hindquarters, so despite my intense desire to waltz out wearing an 80's prom dress, it wasn't going to happen.  I settled on two brooches that I absolutely adored...and the Dark Haired Stranger made sure I didn't leave the shop without them.