While Romania (the country where I come from) is being buried in snow, here I am in lovely Switzerland, where snowflakes come to die. I’ve been getting my hopes up this last couple of days, because it has actually been snowing a little, but I won’t be building any snowman any time soon. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am not a winter person – I absolutely hate and I am unable to cope with cold and, while I appreciate the visual qualities of snow as well as the occasional rolling in it and snow-angel making, snow is not my thing. Yet now I miss it. Anyway, today I took my camera for a walk so as to register the pathetic attempts of Lady Winter (this is me being nice, winter is actually an old, nasty hag, no doubts about it). This is Baden:
No, I am not nor I intend to be running around naked, I just had it with buying clothes. It has nothing to do with consumerism or being overwhelmed by the immensity of the fashion industry and how it affects our society because, frankly, I don’t give a fuck. I love clothes. I love having clothes and looking at clothes. I love getting dressed for the day and I love seeing other people be as excited about clothes as I am. But I am not buying anymore. Now the reason I am stating this loud and clear and, well, publicly, is that no one believes me. Not one single person I have told this is taking me seriously, so this is to making it feel more real to me and to shove in everyone’s else’s faces at the same time. ”But, why?” they all ask skeptically. Because what with my birthday, Christmas, Black Friday, sales season or any other reason one needs to go shopping, I now have so many clothes that I can’t properly love each and every one of them so basicaly I have to stop. It’s tempting, oh so tempting – the shops with all those bright windows, the nicely dressed mannequins, the low prices, the pretty dresses and cozy sweaters – they tempt me.. So I’m also going to avoid the apparently harmless window-shopping because I can rarely say no to something once it’s on my mind. Anyway, I hereby declare the beginning of my no-more-clothes challenge which will last until the first of February. Wish me luck.
I’m a perfectionist. Or should I say a pretextionist? Or should I rather use a word that I’ve yet to find an equivalent in Romanian or any other language? Okay, I am a procrastinator. Really, people should stop using this word with such ease, because it is not something to be proud of. You wouldn’t proudly state that you toss your dirty socks under the bed, for instance, because that’s gross. So is not doing what you are supposed to – lack of discipline one would call it, or perhaps laziness. A perfectionist is never done with anything because everything is supposed to be perfect and, as we all know, there is no such thing as perfection. The pretextionists, however, are something completely different – they never start anything until the circumstances are perfect. It’s hard to explain, how you can’t write because your pen is starting to look old and you need a new one. It sort of like this: you want to cook the most amazing meal ever: you read the recipe and start gathering the ingredients. You realize that you need milk so you get dressed and go buy some. You come home and realize that you don’t have a bowl that is big enough so you either go out again to buy the bowl or you just drop everything and order a fucking pizza. That’s me – I settle for the pizza. That’s you. That’s half of the people I know, at least at some point in their lives, but the fact that it is such a common phenomenon doesn’t make it acceptable.
It is the fifth of January 2012 – it has been almost a week since I decided that this year I would make it worth it – no more excuses, no more slacking. I’ll eat less (it’s a cliché, I know, but the fact that right now food is the second on my list of things that make me happy – right after buying stuff – is starting to scare me), draw more, write more, learn more. I am one of the crowd – it’s a new year, a new beginning – make it count! But just like the crowd, I plan much and do little. I procrastinate. And I don’t feel any shame at all.