Remember how my laptop bag broke? Well, I got a new one at the GAP for thirty euros. It was way cheaper because it was in the men’s section, but the guy at the counter made up for the price difference by lightly harassing me for buying a bag intended for guys. It’s a black canvas messenger bag, I hope I’m not mistaken for a man! Though of course this confusion would be understandable considering the circumstances. Then I had to buy a less huge bag to get me to and from work, so I folded (haha) and bought a Longchamp. (Explanation of joke: their bags are famous for folding up.) One of my favorite metro games since I’ve gotten here has been counting the Longchamps, because they are everywhere. The French uniform for girls is a black coat with a scarf over it, knee-length boots, and a Longchamp. I bought the boots in anticipation of this trip, and have added the coat and finally the bag during my time here. This all raises the question: where does my conformity stop? Sure, it’s all good when it means low-price high-quality purses, but would I be wearing a big gold crucifix if I lived in Texas? Regardless, this purse is awesome. I think I’ve already made up the money spent by the elimination of future chiropractor bills. I can put a dictionary, book, wallet, gloves, umbrella, glasses case, keys, and cell phone in there and it feels like nothing. Also, when walking by a man who was yelling at every tourist, he ignored me. Because now I look French. The illusion stops when I open my mouth.
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