Still warm, goodbye lunch with a friend today, night off, feeling like stripes. The beige three quarter sleeved jersey top with black, red and sand brown (oooh, look at me, identifying tones, it’s all in the details) stripes. I haven’t been a stripes girl for a long time, but living in a city famous for its harbor can change one’s mind. But no polka dots! And when I think stripes, I think sailor, and then of Popeye, and inevitably of one boy in my class when I was seven years old. He would swallow enormous amounts of spinach (dark green goo back then, but I’m wiser now) during lunchtime, almost emptying the aluminum foil container from the cafeteria by himself, and then declare he was Popeye. I had a crush on him and fancied myself his Olive Oyl for a while, but the spinach factor made it a love-hate relationship.
Flared midi denim skirt! You can never go wrong with denim, and it’s still long enough so that I’ll be able to catch it before it flies up in that beloved, but at times pesky Elbe breeze. Fire engine red tights and most likely the heeled black ankle boots from yesterday. Dark gold leaf earrings and a ring to match – done!
“I’m Popeye the sailor man!” Damn.