This afternoon I went to Union Square with Mabel Watson Payne and her father. The skies over San Francisco were full of dark clouds. There had been off and on showers earlier and we were afraid the habitual playgrounds would be too wet. There will be more pictures later of the adventures we had with birds and dogs and people in this big paved open downtown space. From the short sequence here it can be seen that one of the things my granddaughter learned in the course of last week's New York stay was how to sniff things. She took several good sniffs of this pink flower before urging me also to take a turn sniffing it.
The little white corduroy bolero jacket is old and beautifully made, apparently never worn by anybody else, even though I would not date it any later than the 1950s. Friends who are genius vintage shoppers found it for Mabel Watson Payne. Edges are finished with delicate white grosgrain cording. It closes in front with a single minute button and loop. She wore it with the careless elegance that has already become her trademark.