People in France are particularly fashionable, as is to be expected, I suppose. They always wear really cute scarves, sassy boots, designer jeans, and gorgeous tops. The click-clack of high heels is ever-present as I walk along the streets, admiring the natural grace and style of all the young, hip Frenchies...
Then, there's me... I walk around in tattered, ill-fitting jeans, plain tee-shirts, ugly beat up sneakers, not to mention the obnoxiously bright orange beanie that is practically a permanent fixture atop my head. That's how I look almost every single day.
One day, I decided to change it up a bit, so I traded in my ill-fitting jeans for an old, ill-fitting skirt, kept the sneakers and wore a camisole and cardigan. But given my lack of style, it's no wonder I got dirty looks as I traipsed around in ratty sneakers and a dowdy skirt. No joke, I looked like this little kid, but less cute.
Oh well... I guess I'll never learn...
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