Different

Today is for a bit different outfit post, and if I may say I never looked thinner than in this picture:) So, here's the equation and below are all the elements.

 
Blouse - This is an Orsay blouse, found on a half-a-Euro pile on the local flea market by my sister. It was brand new, and of the most beautiful soft cotton. It quickly got a life cycle of wearing-washing-wearing. Then after people started having collective deja vues when they saw me and I discovered a square millimeter of pilling on it, I realized it was time to give it a break, so now I wear it rationally...

Necklace - I love jewelry made of mother-of-pearl. This necklace was Tamara's and she bought it for the most peculiar reason -  it reminded her of abs and she needed fitness inspiration. My eyes went all Manga when I saw it on her and she said there were more in the store and that she would buy me one the next day. But after a few grapefruit beers and my eyes still shiny with admiration she caved and took it off saying it was probably meant for me because she didn't really like it that much, it was just the abs thing. But she also threatened me that in a month I must show off my abs if I meant to keep it. Well, in a month I gave her my polka dot earrings because they were meant for her in the first place and I never wore them, not because I didn't have any abs to show off.

Trousers - Tamara and I again in a story together and the story set in the Chinese shopping centre in Belgrade. What else would the two of us notice on the whole floor but a store with the these trousers in at least a dozen different prints. Soft and light to the touch and with a price worthy of fainting, just under 4 Euro. We did our best not to faint and Tamara bought a floral pair and I bought these in a PJ worthy print. And a week later I was forced to go back for more, for apparently these appeal to all generations and types of women, from a pregnant friend, to most of other friends, to Tamara's aunt and grandma, and also my sister. And again I took a pair for my self (I can only say that it's definitely Hammer Time again, don't ask), and T is coming back for a polka dot pair.

The purse is a very special piece that used to be my boyfriend's mother. His dad bought it as a surprise gift  for her when he went to Novi Sad and I suppose it was a means of winning her heart a little bit more. And I'm honored and humbled that it's mine now.

The book (Dirk Gently's  Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams) - Just read it for the second time and while the first time was a complete blur to me even besides my utmost respect for the holly words DON'T PANIC! and a belief that everyone should have a towel with them at any time*. Only after watching 4 seasons of Doctor Who did I realize the genius of this book, the potential of it being a perfect episode of DW and a wonderful whovian twist in the end.

The ring - Greece, summer 2012.

Sunglasses -  Same day, same Tamara, same Chinese shopping centre as before. I looked for a pair like this for a while and I finally found it that they and they were too cheap for my own good or for anybody else's good, for that matter, but to pretty to pass.

Nail polish - Again the same setting as before. This nail polish has practically industrial strength. Not only does it stand the test of time but also the test of dish washing, I tell it barely chips. Although it has a tendency to stain the nails so you need the base coat, but as for me, give me more colours, thank you!

Shoes - I could go without them but if you want to know - these.

;)

*Serbian

* If you think I'm crazy for saying this, know that I'm not the only one and that you can join in the crazy, just read The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy, by Douglas Adams ;)

Great Expectations

Some friends know you so well and you realize how well when you get a birthday present like this. So, Tamara, admit it, who gave you a my list of must-own classics?

*Serbian

Flea Market Calling

I'm still here, alive, just doing stuff, more reading less writing, admittedly.

And reading a lot about flea markets these days, you know - the crisis, economy and such. And I'm thinking I'm kind of a flea market veteran which is nothing new in this here sphere of blogging, but for a while I've lost my flea market mojo. My favourite boots and bags are pretty worn out now and they are the best I have. They were all bought on a flea market, and they were mostly from Germany or Italy (enough said). I need new ones but it's a tricky situation in this here little country. If I pay what I can afford and still have enough money for some coffee by the end of the months those shoes will last till spring, hardly longer. If I pay more, well, what should I do about coffee (or rent, or electricity and phone bills, or breakfast, lunch and dinner) then.

I'm thinking of my first flea market visits. Early mornings and us sleepy chasing a cab. Our first half-a-euro scores. It all started when I got a few H&M (no store here, at the time or now) blouses from a very lovely lady, then a Benetton jeans, and Italian shoes and it's when I got suspicious. After a short interrogation she broke and admitted - a little out of town, behind the trucks selling timber, early morning, do not accept the first price and work quickly.

 

Those were good times. Early morning Thursdays we could hardly wait, didn't even sleep sometimes if it was summer. And everyone had their own special code names for the place, those are hard to translate, but let me just mention that on Thursday mornings my dad use to go to the boutique. 

And the other very important thing about those mornings was the group of people you were with. You could not tell just about anyone about where you got that gorgeous skirt, it required a special mind to appreciate the genius of the place and situation. As special as Tamara's, for example, one of the best flea market partners ever. And then there we were usually the only ones below forty. And we would always meet one of our teachers, whether it be a chemistry, math or physics teacher, those were the ladies with the scariest 80s suits in the school (and we finally understood where those were from).

So, some days we would go there with around 2E in our pockets and got home with bags full. My favourite leather bag is from that flea market, as well as favourite boots, jewellery and blazer. But there is a catch there, there is a trick. You easily get seduced by all the Zara, Mango and H&M, and you get dizzy of all the 50 cent prices, and you easily end up stuck in a pile of clothes that's not really you, you don't really need or want to wear. I suppose it would be same buying bunch of stuff on sale in a moll in a richer country if you do not just pause and think, if you allow yourself to be blinded by brand or the amount you can buy. So, I decided I needed a flea market abstinence period and I got rid of piles, or better say mountains of clothes, at one moment (which I must say made a few of my friends pretty happy and well dressed). 

As some years passed things changed quite a bit. I moved. The flea market stayed the same except the change of location, but the people who visit it look very different now. The other day I finally went there and saw what this economy crisis did to our beloved place. Now among the visitors you see people who, you might think, would burst in flames if they left the safety of a shopping moll and the fresh air touched their tanned skin, and the hair bleach would fade and all the flat irons of the world would explode at the same time... And just so you know, the competition is strong so beware of the nails.

And I told you all this so full of nostalgic feelings just so I can share that I was able to stop the abstinence period last Thursday, thanks to a patron saint and a one month old baby. I resisted all the temptation and was focused and concentrated on what I really need and what is really good and found 4 things that make perfect sense in my wardrobe up to the last seam. Beautiful, silky, patterned pants that will have to wait the warm days next year, but that I searched for long and wide last summer - check. Fluffiest and softest cardigan with the sweetest and subtlest leopard rash - check. A leather skirt that I was also praying on last couple of seasons, well made, not shiny, perfect size -  check. And last but not least two bracelets made of spring that I'm already wearing all the time - super check.

P.S. If you got this far, thank you for actually reading and I hope your brain doesn't hurt too much.

 :)

*Serbian

Tango with the Wolves

    

Her name is Tamara Đurić. She loves soccer (because of her dad) and she plays basketball with her friends in their street. She always has an apple in her bag. When she was a kid she handstiched a needlepoint smurfette and had it framed. She was a jazz ballet dancer. She had all the hairstyles and hair colours you can imagine (she still asks me to braid her hair). She likes to saw (because of her mom, they always fight about the way things are done, Tamara is stubborn). She rides a bike, can’t drive. She adores 2 cities and a village. She still hangs out with her childhood gang all the time. In high school she used to draw on desks and the cleaning ladies almost never removed her drawings. And the kids from the other classes left her messages asking for a drawing and she did them. Her friends have her works framed because she gave them for birthdays or holidays or because they begged her to death for one (I got one for birthday). She graduated last week, she is a biologist now. It was her birthday on Monday and this Saturday she has her first exhibition. Speaking about the good month.

If you happen to be in Novi Sad, Serbia on Saturday you can see her imagination live in caffe Frida (Ise Bajica 8, Novi Sad). I’ll be there.

Tamara's FB page

*Serbian