Euro Chic/Day 5
I’ve been treating my Euro Chic clothes very much like a super hero treats their alter ego costume – only to be worn in public and in case of emergencies, like if Mothman takes over the world or I have to go to Kindergym. So I’ve been waiting until the very last second to put my fancy clothes on before leaving the house and then upon return, I’ve been tearing them off even before I reach our front door. I had to bring the garbage cans back from the curb the other day and I partially undressed beforehand in order to do this. I horrified my children and practically froze, but hey, my pants didn’t get yucky. It’s one of the benefits of living in the country — no one can see you naked as you roll your cans.
But I know real Euro chicers don’t behave like this. They wear their beautiful outfits from morning until night and then they change into a nice pair of silk pajamas, have a glass of brandy and tell their servants to go feed the ocelots. So, as an experiment, I decided to keep my outfit on at home and see if I acted any differently dressed in Euro chic…
The first thing I noticed was that I didn’t want to sit down on any surface we have… chair, bed and especially the floor. Our couch was a definite no-no because I could see from a good distance there was play dough stuck on it, but I didn’t look too closely in case I was wrong and it was something much worse. I then moved to the refrigerator to get something to drink and there was nothing even close to what an adult would drink – and I’m not talking about alcohol – just an iced tea or maybe a sparkling water. I flat out refused to be in a silk shirt and drink a juice box at the same time — it seemed a slap in the face to all of higher civilization. Now tired of standing and thirsty, I gazed around our home and couldn’t believe the clutter. It’s like I’ve never been in our house before. I began cleaning like mad and within a half hour, I had five large bags of stuff filled and ready to go to Goodwill.
Before I completely lost it and grabbed a claw hammer to remodel the bathroom, I decided to change out of my Euro chic clothes for the day and into my “at home” uniform – sweats, graphic t-shirt and the world’s ugliest and most comfortable slippers. Our house instantly looked so much better, not just because I had cleaned it, but because my sloppy clothes helped me lower my standards immensely. I hardly noticed the play dough adhering itself to my butt as I sat on the couch and the juice box was delicious…
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