I apologize if my post title got you super psyched for a good history lesson on blankets – because this ain’t that. To make up for it, I have provided this very informative link on the evolution of the electric blanket. I stopped reading when he brought up tuberculosis sanitariums. Let me know if it got any better.
Anyway, back to me.
This is the first installment in a 2 part series on blankets. Part 1 is called, The Blanket that Defines Me.
Our bed needed a throw in a major way. I am not the kind of person who naps by crawling under the covers. I nap on top of the made bed – it is less of a commitment and therefore makes me feel less lazy. And since I cannot ever in a million billion years sleep without layers on top of me, I asked my mom to purchase me a throw blanket as a Christmas present. Hot damn, that woman nailed it!
I am a total sucker for paisley (as evidenced by the name of my blog). Always have been. Being my mom she knows that kind of thing. I love the colors and the fuzzy, warm, soft coziness of said blanket is INSANE.
(As we have discussed, my photography skills are sub par so I am not doing Mr. Blankey any sort of justice here. You gotta take my word for it. Also, please disregard the wrinkled pillow shams in the background. I have not seen my iron since 2003.)
If someone were to ask me in a job interview, “Tell me, if you were a blanket, what kind of blanket would you be?” I would take out my phone, show him/her a picture of this blanket and then they would know. Yes, I carry a photo of my blanket on my phone at all times. Why? Is that weird? Whatever, I bet I’d be hired for sure, don’t ya think?
So there you have it. In case you were lying awake at night wondering how I would define my style – this blanket is it. You can go back to sleep now.
Stay tuned for Part 2, The Blanket that Nearly Ended My Marriage.