I have one of those distinct memories from around age 5 or 6 (in other words, now it is slightly vague but I am SO sure it happened) of my mom singing along to "You're So Vain" while toodling along in her 'little red Chevette'. We were probably going to one of my brother's Little League games or to my Grandma's or to pick up some McDonald's.
The line and the imagery of "clouds in my coffee" has stuck with me. I suppose it is because when you're little, clouds are in the sky and, well, how do they get into a cup of coffee?
"You're So Vain" is a timeless song - she's taking a real dig at him and it could be any year. Any jerk of a guy. Any smart girl who has a way with words.
Saratoga. Nova Scotia. Wife of a close friend.
The backstory is one of those great ones that has taken decades to unravel. Ann put it on a mix CD for me in the early 2000s, I ripped it onto my iTunes, it's lived on probably 5 different iPods/iPhones over the years, and now I most often listen to it on Spotify. And that little line resonates now with 5 year-old Georgie, just like it did -- and does -- with me. Except G sings "clouds in your coffee, clouds in your coffee"because as she says, she doesn't drink coffee yet.
Your scarf it was apricot...