sunday is the new monday (meh)
So it's Sunday (quasi Monday) and I'm sitting at the dining room table dressed in black leggings, blue tank top and a black jersy shirt. Last Tuesday I dug into the back of the closet and I found a pair of leggings I haven't worn in ages and I'm not quite sure why, but since then, I have been living in them. Wearing them with t-shirts and sweat shirts around the house, and if I run down to the corner store, throwing a sack dress on overtop (which, mind you, is a fashion faux pas in a city country where probably 70% (actually more, though I've only seen the Cairo and Sharm el Sheikh sides of life) of women are veiled and such dress is deemed highly inappropriate.
The funny thing is I feel one part fashionable and 2-parts comfortable in this current uniform and though my neighbour across the - hmmmmm, what would you call it? - gap between buildings shoots me a funny look of awe laced with disgust...I offer her a wide smile while lifting up my hand and giving her an exaggerated wave.
I mean, it's the least I can do.
The funny thing is I feel one part fashionable and 2-parts comfortable in this current uniform and though my neighbour across the - hmmmmm, what would you call it? - gap between buildings shoots me a funny look of awe laced with disgust...I offer her a wide smile while lifting up my hand and giving her an exaggerated wave.
I mean, it's the least I can do.