Around the World in 80 Dresses

From my holiday home in the South West of France it is not too far to Spain. Every now and then I pamper myself with a weekend trip to Barcelona. The green outfit from Skunkfunk I brought home last time is nearly a camouflage in my rural French surroundings immersed in all shades of green as they are. The Spaniards always get it right. Be it Zara, Mango, Disigual or Skunkfunk. They seem to have the winning formula. In the German translation of My Fair Lady Eliza Doolittle sang right that: Es grünt so grün, wenn Spaniens Blüten blühen (The rain in Spain...)

Who says never show your wardrobe? It must have been a man. All my female friends love to show hers and peep into mine. I don’t follow the example of some Singaporean fashionistas who make use of one of their service minded and inventive companies. They hire a wardrobe in a storage house to accommodate their ever growing fashion treasures. My not so hidden secrets are still to be shared at my home. In 2017 the wealthiest person worldwide was Señor Amancio Ortega Gaona according to the Forbes list. Why the founder of Zara is so rich is no secret to me. I was addicted to Zara from their very first year on. Zara still manages to offer something for everybody interested in fashion and for a reasonable price. This confession may bring me down on the imaginary list of the most well dressed women. Oh, so pedestrian will they say . I shall have to bear with it. My philosophy is to combine the special with the common, the precious with the inexpensive, the mad with the sober, the elega...

On the flea market in Buenos Aires I came across the lovely statuette of Don Quijote. The flea markets and antique shops of the Argentinean capital are a treasure trove. I dedicated a whole chapter of my little guide book on the city of tango to the Sunday pastime of hunting and gathering so much cherished by the Porteños. My Don Quijote is reading a book which makes him dear to me. I like to talk to him. As he insists on my addressing him in Spanish he became my Spanish teacher. He is a proud man. I best wear something Spanish during our encounters. I do hope the modern twist of my outfit from skunkfunk will not annoy him. If it does I shall have to change into a period dress like the beautiful ladies on Argentinean National day.

I have a hidden penchant for black lace, but neither am I Spanish nor is a fiesta or a corso of Andalusian horses in sight, although I bought the little black dress in Sevilla.  Tone it down, tone it down . I won’t forget this advice from my seamstress, niece of a Berlin couturier well known in the times when the Durchreise was The German fashion event. The lace and a mud coloured bomber jacket with zips become bedfellows, unlikely but working nicely.