Let’s be honest: as soon as I can, I change into my jeans and flats. Let’s be honest again: my dear teenager would love nothing more than to make a bonfire with my favorite sweater, whose death is long overdue and that she has simply seen too much of. I do suspect that our nanny, who feels the same way about the said sweater, intentionally put the machine on a high temperature program to shrink it and finally rid me of it.
In her bonfire, she would gladly throw in my ballet flats, which I wear so often that they’ve turned into very battered flats indeed. But that’s why I love them, as they’ve consequently acquired the flexibility of true ballet shoes and thus allow me to practice my half-points everywhere I go (I do this regularly at home, in the stairs, in the street. Don’t ask).
She would probably invite a few people from our area to the bonfire, including the barristas from Starbucks, where I regularly stop by as I drink an endless amount of lattes, and who often see me several times throughout the day, dressed as a classy business lawyer and the next time as a rag. At first, total incomprehension.
They soon understood. Indeed, they understood once they saw me arriving every weekend with two overexcited kids who ransack the whole coffee shop in less time than I need to order a donut.
They understood that when I sink down into one of their terrace seats alone, it’s my time off (which also includes clothing), during which I can listen to my music (and not « Let it go » for the hundredth time), enjoy my Ipad (without a 6yo tyrant asking for it because it is an urgent necessity to play Angry Birds), whistle (I do it all the time without even noticing it, even at the office) and talk with our neighbors without being interrupted 15 times in a minute (and sometimes I don’t feel like talking and I can put on a very nasty look).
No favorite sweater, no battered ballet flats here – but an Iron Lady 😉
Etro top – Banana Republic trousers – Authentic Panama hat – Tod’s shoes – Face A Face sunglasses