3 things Spanish cities taught me

I am a true asphalt child. One of those who admit that fresh air and nature are a gift, but want to live in the city. That feeling when you walk down the street and hear a street orchestra all around you gives me energy: cell phones beep, cars even louder than them, apartment building doors slam, a cyclist insistently rattles his bell, even though he is not riding exactly where he is allowed to, in the square in front of you you hear people asking at least three different languages ​​at the same time how much Nike (or at least that is what they would like to call themselves) sneakers cost, and then you are unpleasantly frightened by a huge flock of pigeons that suddenly take to the air, because a courier with pizzas on a scooter has just entered their flock.

I spent almost 3 years in Barcelona, ​​and now for a few years I've been living between the small towns of Valencia and Barcelona and Valencia itself. It's one of the most interesting things that has happened to me in my life so far - consciously creating my own aesthetic with the help of the city.

The 3 best STYLE lessons the streets of Barcelona and Valencia taught me:

Limits are only for subway lines, not your style.

When I wore high heels in the Barcelona office one day, I was annoyed. I also surprised my former colleagues with a bag with a portrait of my dog ​​on it, with a white bodysuit, decorated with a white flamingo and other details of my outfit. And the more comments I received telling me that it was “weird” or “nice”, that it was either “too much” or “not at all”, the more I realized that my “beautiful” did not necessarily have to coincide with theirs. I looked at their combinations, which also did not always work out, and I thought that in an office where there were many disagreements, we would all survive only by clinging to our own selves, which, no matter what, have the right to be.

What others will think is as interesting as watching a walking cockroach

I once gave a woman a handmade headband made in a Barcelona atelier, and she smiled wistfully and said she would wear it at home so the villagers wouldn't gossip about it. Every time I think about it, I feel sad. It's been 3 years since I gave her that headband and I still haven't seen her wear it.

You know what freed me to look the way I want, without any consideration of how I appear to others? The Barcelona metro. When you ride in a crowded metro, and around you are everything from the most elegantly dressed men and women with red lips, to young girls whose best outfits are now bare-bellied, to finally a musician in a denim jacket who smells bad and asks for money. If you get on such a metro with, say, a stuffed bird on your head like Carrie Bradshaw, you will be stared at until your phones beep again, and you won't have to wait long for that. Most likely, someone else on the metro will remember that bird on your head during your lunch break and maybe think that it's complete nonsense, or maybe check Amazon to see if they have any for sale. What's the difference? Because it's not the people who comment on something who will lose without trying it, but the one who wanted that bird on her head.

Black is fun, but the only thing that's too bright is the sun when you forget your glasses.

I never liked black. Now it seems like nothing at all, but to be honest, I like it more out of necessity than sincerely. Like sand. Sand is simply comfortable: lying on it on the beach is more pleasant than on stones, a sand blouse is easier to combine than a pink one. But let's get back to black, now I like it on other things. It was enough to attend Spanish festive dinners, where women shone with black sequins, wore short black skirts, or simply wore black with the brightest red lipstick I've ever seen. Black is bright at Barcelona events.

Now, when I choose a new jacket or shirt, I think about what bright color I don't have. And that pink jacket with green daisies is one of my better purchases. When I wear it, people call me Barbie. And I don't mind.

So if you're looking for pills to cure boredom, go to the city, to the furthest pharmacy. I guarantee that after walking the entire Paseo de Gracia or a street like that, you'll have new good ideas that will please your wardrobe, and you'll need fewer mood-boosting supplements.