This morning on my way to work I became clear about the fact how much I love Paris. Not only my private Paris but also my daily live. It's just so much more anonymous and indifferent in Paris and I thank my destiny every day.
I remembered a chat with a former colleague I never forgot because the consequences of my statement of mind were so disappointing. The discussion originally not about fashion but at the end it let to it and the judgements involved with this subject.
SHE told me that her vacation in South Africa was incredibly nice the only problem was that her trunk with all clothes was stolen.
I said that this must be horrible because no one can replace the value of them.
SHE affirmed that this was no problem because insurance pays.
I replied that this would be an issue for me loving every single piece of my closet and each having its own history.
SHE laughed and said that she doesn't understand me. It's easy she countered "you just take the money from the insurance company, go to a shop, buy three different pants, two pullovers, some shirts, 2 pair of comfortable shoes and you will be alright. You will survive, believe me."
No answer from my side.
Afterwards she never got rid of the picture of me being a superficial doll who is only interested in the "easy" things in life. (I learned later from a reliable third party)
When I remember this chat today I come to the conclusion that for one a pullover is anything and for the other it's something special. I am glad to say that now that I am older, I would have the self-confidence to explain who is why superficial.