„You definetly should be a fashion blogger “ she said. I really couldn’t guess her age at that point, maybe she was 19 but she also could be 32.
I smiled politely , I was sure she was making fun because that day I was wearing my, by exiedent 4 years ago recived Levi’s jeans ( I was working at the Levi’s-shop in Berlin for exactly 2 days, thats why I got them ), my boyfriends, way to big, Jack Daniels shirt and a vintage shiffon blouse that a woman gave to me on a flee market for free, because it was so crapy.
„I mean we could make something out of it!“ She was so overwhelmingly motivated. I hated it.
„I think you got something wrong, there is nothing fashion about me at all“ I smiled and still tried to understand if she was seriously considering it or not.
„Are u sure ? I mean what else are u doing besides working here ?“ She looked around. I tried to stay polite even thou I could have jumped at her face and scream „shut the fuck up“ in her ear.
“ well…actually I study, this is only a part time job“ now I didn’t smiled any longer but tried to stay cool anyway (of course as cool as I can be wearing the cloth )
„Yeah sure … interesting. “ And in that moment I understood that my finally new five minute friendship with that girl has come to an end.
In the end I ask myself why the fuck people always decide that they know better what i should do, wear, whom i should love and date, who I should fuck and who not, what kind of music i should like and what kind of party i really shouldn’t go to … I really could continue with that list for quit some time. Am I such a basket case that everybody surrounding me has this unstoppable need to help me ? Its not like i don’t wanna know my friends opinion, or my mothers or my colleagues. But if i wanna know believe me please I’ll ask for it. Maybe thats just again one of those things I need to deal with until i finally can say I am a grown up and don’t need your approval or opinion at all.