L.A. Vignette

One recent afternoon, my friend Rachel and I were waiting for a couple of other folks outside the movie theater at the Grove. We saw a woman walking a small, fluffy, blue shirt-clad dog past the dog purse kiosk across from the theater.

The woman stopped, picked up the dog, and held it next to one of the purses. The purse was slightly larger than the other dog, but other than that, they were dead ringers for each other.

The woman laughed, put down the dog, and they walked away. I'm pretty sure I saw the dog cringe. It knew the score. What advantage could a living, breathing, eating, pooing, not-available-in-any-other-colors fashion-accessory dog have over a suite of dog-shaped fashion accessories? The best it could hope for was a shirt change.

A special note for those of you in other areas of the country who are mocking the L.A.-ness of it all: This took place outdoors. In 70-degree weather. In January. Ahem.