Wednesday, 11 August 2010

The Suitcase

"Where are you going?" "Are you just back from holidays?" "Mommy why is that big lady carrying a suitcase?" These are just some of the queries that beset me when pulling clothes.
As a practical soul, I carry a trusty trolley dolley so as not to lead people to believe I am shopping my way out of the recession. Unwittingly, this tactic has raised its own set of scruples.
Only recently I stopped for a coffee break in Starbucks when the barista, bemused by my excess baggage, enquired as to why I always carry a suitcase. "I'm a stylist" didn't seem to wash. Each time I pop in for a skinny latte, she wants further explanation. I think she's convinced I'm harbouring refugees or that I'm some sort of prodigious cleptomaniac. "Maybe she thinks you're fabulously homeless?" offered a friend.
Then there was that guy in a namelss bar who exclaimed "You're the girl with the suitcase!" Since then, I've been fostering Howard Hughes-like paranoia, convinced the greater Grafton Street catchment has me pegged as an oddity. Ah, the glamourous world of styling...

4 comments:

Alice said...

I think I saw you with your suitcase one day in one of the shops...I actually though you were going away for the weekend and just popped in to get something nice for the holiday, silly me :)

Ballet News said...

loved your post - thank you. Have a great week

Kitty Cat said...

Haha! I'm going to have to keep an eye out for you now..

bianca said...

Hahaha! I love this entry! I used to also work as a stylist back in Asia before moving to Paris. I remember walking around town with tons of paper bags for a shoot. People used to think I was some painfully rich child who had nothing better do to than to spend on clothes and shoes and whatnots. Then the great suprise, the see me hop on a cab and wonder: "How does a girl who can shop so much not have a car (preferrably chauffer driven)???" Good memories of styling!