I’m pretty much a slob: anybody who knows me knows that when it comes time for me to dress everyday, I reach into the closet and grab whatever is convenient.
Usually there’s some reflection of the weather outside, but even that cannot be guaranteed. I try to make sure that the colors don’t clash, and that when I am Going Out that my clothes make some kind of sense.
But that doesn’t mean I’m not impressed by people who actually do care about their looks and clothing—like the attractive guy punk who I occasionally see on the train I ride from Weimar Berkaer Bahnhof to the Hauptbahnhof—a ride that lasts at best three minutes and worst five minutes.
He’s on the train when I get on at Weimar Berkaer Bahnhof, and arrival there signals him that it’s time to get dressed—and it is quite the production. Wearing black pants and a black t-shirt of some kind, he puts on a black hoodie, carefully putting up the hood, and zipping it up.
If it were me, I would skip putting up the hood, and just zip it up, if the weather called for it.
But not for him: it is only the first step in the production. His next step is to put on another black hoodie, which he also puts the hood up, over the previous hood.
Only then comes the coat: black. He puts it on, arranges everything carefully, makes sure the two hoods are nestled perfectly, checking his reflection in the glass, and then puts the two hoods down—over the coat.
By my count, that’s four layers, which if it were freezing cold, I would consider wearing—but as cold as it is in Weimar, I wouldn’t say it’s cold enough four two hoodies and a coat on top.
Obviously it was for him, and he pulled out his piece de résistance: a scarf. He tied it like a bandana around his face, carefully putting all the folds exactly where they belonged, checked the knot in the back, and then carefully pushed the scarf down until it encircled his neck just so.
The last step was to make sure the earbuds for his music were again correctly placed in his ears.
It was entrancing to watch and today I was hypnotized by the whole procedure.
Eventually he sat down to fiddle with something and I started staring out the windows again: we were about a minute away from the hauptbahnhof. When I looked up, he was staring at me, holding my glaze and nodded at me. I was left wondering what he was thinking—not that I objected.
He’s definitely cute.
I just really hope his shades of black matched. There is nothing worse than different fades of black.
Granted you could probably find a blogger around here that says the same thing about me riding the autobus. I always wear more clothes than necessary. In a previous job someone only knew me as the “hoodie girl” because I was never seen without my hoodie…I’m the ice queen the boyfriend says 😛
@koko: His clothing all matched. He’s a man who cares about how he looks–everything has to be perfect, and its actually quite adorable. And I have to confess… i didn’t know you owned a hoodie.
I have about 10 hoodies. Also I was going to make some comment about your paisley shirt I tried to convince to you get rid of when you first moved to germany. I hope you still don’t have it. eeks.
@koko: I thought you helped me get rid of it! I need to do a serious weeding of my closet right now. Maybe something to do this weekend.