Shroom

Cardigan, The Limited. Cowl neck shell, Worthington. Strapless dress, Newport News. Tooled leather belt, thrifted. Pumps, X Appeal. Bag, Franco Sarto. Earrings, World Market.

I went through a mushroom phase in the late nineties. Not the psychedelic kind. I’d go mushroom hunting with a field guide and entertain myself by identifying various fungi. I was only brave enough to eat my spoils once. While I was working on a trail crew, my teammate found a big, fat, juicy mushroom and we identified it as edible. We sautéed it in butter and downed it with dinner. I spent the night in anticipation of agony but it passed uneventfully. Still, the terror alone was enough to return me to a strictly academic identification of wild fungi.