Wednesday, August 08, 2001

The thing about moving to Europe is that you lose your fashion sense. Although it is possible I lost it due to age more than for any particular geographic reason. Still, it's long gone and I'm completely dependent on the husband - an actual arbiter of fashion here in Sweden - as to what looks good together on this continent.

For instance, I'm wearing these miu miu grey- and- pink- and- silver- glam- sneaker- shoe things this morning, walking to work and I start thinking to myself, uh, do these look okay with these white trousers and this white plasticky dentist-type shirt I'm wearing, and, are they appropriate for work? Are these trousers hip enough or do they scream pathetic old man? Or worse, am I a pathetic old man for real and these shoes in fact could only possibly look good on someone half my age? Either scenario is frightening to contemplate.

But I used to know what I liked. What to wear. What was appropriate.

Perhaps the trouble is that I've gone post-gay. Or is that post-straight? The repercussions are mind-boggling.

And the Swedish word for the day is skådespelare. It means actor. - Francis S.

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