Sunday, February 3, 2013

Me, Myself, and Florence

Yesterday I had one of the more surprisingly nice days here, wandering Florence by myself.

Florence is actually a very, very small city.  When I run, I can easily reach the border of the city in 5 minutes, this is saying something because these are slow runs, cough out of shape cough.  So yesterday I decided to explore the city a little by myself.  

After a nice run next to the Arno, a quick shower, I was on my way. I decided to wear a nicer outfit: black leggings, a light brown sweater, my brown leather jacket, a patterned green and brown scarf, and my brown lace up boots.  I was feeling ready to conquer the world, aka the small city of Firenze.  Of course as soon as I stepped outside, it began to rain as in pour.  Typical.  As I searched the contents of my white leather purse for my umbrella, the wind began.  WHY ME? I thought as I crossed the bridge, my umbrella turning inside out four times, no exaggeration, I counted.  So much for my outfit.  I finally reached my destination, Mama’s bakery; the Italian version of Panera.  After ordering a bagel with sundried tomato cream cheese, I sat down enjoying the well-designed interior of the cute cafĂ© (the owner is from San Francisco, and the interior features pink walls with silver accents).  After my bagel and coffee, I ventured out to find an umbrella that wouldn’t turn inside out every five seconds.  Walking over the Ponte Vecchio, I stared at all the beautiful jewelry shops in envy; not paying attention at all, I basically walked directly into a moving scooter.  You know when you run into someone, and you do that awkward stutter step from side to side, well that was me, stutter stepping a moving vehicle.  After recovering from my near death experience, I walked into H&M, found a cute floral umbrella, and threw the broken embarrassing contraption of an umbrella away.  Next, I needed to find chapstick.  When I say NEEDED, I am not kidding.  Either it’s the saltiness of the food, the never ending cold I seem to have, the lack of water available, the increase of alcohol available- but my lips have been clinically dry to the point of painful.  I walked into the pharmacy and awkwardly motioned to my mouth hoping she’d notice my dry lips, she did.  After paying, I opened the package in front of the pharmacist and applied some chapstick, sighing with relief.  She seemed amused.  Next I decided to treat myself to some tirimisu gelato.  As pathetic as it may seem, I already know my favorite gelato spot. It seems the most creamy and full of flavor.  After the ecstasy of gelato, I walked around the duomo admiring the huge church, vowing to climb the claustrophobic stairs once the weather was nicer.  After wandering around for a few more hours, casually pretending I can afford everything when in actuality I can afford basically nothing, I went home.

Sadly, Florence has been taken over by American students, more importantly American girls.  This only fuels the fire to my Italian Fashion excursion.  I need to step it up.  I will try even harder to wear nice clothes all the time, ugh if only yoga pants, nike frees, and my northface weren't so comfortable.  

As for my ever evolving fashion, my outfits seems to mirror the same general look each day.  Dark wash skinny jeans, black leggings*, or black pants, heeled black, gray or brown boots, and a larger sweater with a scarf.  Pretty simple. Simple can look elegant if you put the right pieces together.  Trying to balance look elegant and fun young style is a difficult task, hopefully being in Italy is bringing me one step closer not only a more Italian style, but better style in general. 

*just a comment on wearing black leggings as pants, although it may be acceptable in some occasions I will probably refrain from wearing them as pants because of my little excursion yesterday; never had so many dirty stares from women and creepy stares from men, lesson learned.

With all the perks of being in Italy, I do still miss Virgina.  There’s nothing like home.  But for now, Florence is a pretty good second.


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