"I never wear pearls no more"

I sat in the waiting area at my psychiatrist's office yesterday, eavesdropping on a (overly loud) conversation. It was between an eccentric woman and her apparent chauffeur-gopher lady. The eccentric lady captivated me. I wanted to get to know her. She wore dangling earrings with a very tacky all-denim outfit, complete a full denim trench that I am sure she gave full justice at one point in time.
She was so nervous, with shaky hands and grease stains on her pants, yet still held a class about her. You'd have to have seen her in the light I did. Maybe I feel as if I can see 'into' people sometimes. She spoke of a new top she had, but damn it, she didn't have a good pair of dangle earrings to go with it. But the line she muttered that struck me most was "and I never wear pearls no more" It made me want to go over, sit next to her, take her by her shaky hands and tell her to please go home and put on her pearls, that'd she'd look magnificent in them.
She said it in such a longing way, as if she had her last last pearl-wearing moment in the forefront of her mind. Maybe it was the last time she felt wanted, or pretty. Or sane.
Maybe she's not crazy, maybe she's just eccentric. I have chipped nail polish, too, sometimes.