April 24th, 2009

lips

The secret thoughts of a materialist.

On the way home  from a long shopping day, I made my usual stop at the Red Cross second hand store. It always smells so good in there. They have the café right in the next room and they are always baking those scrumptious kanelbullar (cinnamon buns), lussekatter (saffron buns) and wienerkammar (something like maple danish), and the whole place fills up with sugar and cinnamon in the air. In combination with the freshly brewed coffee and the smell of old books, dusty shoes and worn out furniture it becomes a memory of its own. Now it is spring so the scent of spring is added in the atmosphere along with rays of sunlight and floating pollen. I looked through the books, I went through the fluffy skirts and rushed downstairs to gaze at the beautiful baroque sofas that I’d love to buy but have nowhere to put. So as I am enjoying my moment, there it was; a supermarket pushcart  filled with old bags. Like corpses the one above the other with their leather still shiny, still strong and its scent still there to remind those passing by, they once were alive. My eye caught the shinny metal gleaming in my cornea  and deep in some childhood memory. It was an old camera case in rather good condition, few scratches here and there, nothing major. Right beside it there was a small handbag very cute but not as mystical as the camera case. However they were leaning on each other and I didn’t have the heart to separate them. There was a problem though; no price tags. I hated that. I wanted to know. Before I knew it I was walking up the stairs with the 2 girls in my arms thinking: “please let me afford them, please let me afford them!!!! At least the camera case! Please, please please, I’ll do anything, please please please!! I will not buy anything else for a week I promisse”

At the cashier’s I could feel the vein on my forehead pulsating. It was a boy and a girl quite new in the store so they had to scribble through their book to check on prices. I also got a skirt from there and it took them sometime to find the price for it. While the girl was looking for the skirt’s price I asked the boy how much for the bags. He said: “I have no idea I have to look through”. The suspense was overwhelming when the girl turned around, scaned the bags with her eyes and said to the boy: “ No need to look for that, I know the price for bags. It is 10 kr.”

- 10 Swedish crown!!! That is: less than 1 euro, something a liiiiittle more than 1 US dollar, or significantly much less than 1 English pound -

“Are you sure?” the boy said: “10 krona?????”. My vein was now definitely on its way to pop. “Yes” she said: “All bags cost 10 kr.” My stomach was tight like a pretzel, I tried too hard not to smile, my heart was racing. They took their sweet time to find the price for the stupid skirt. I had the money ready on one hand while the other was ready to open the door. Finally I got the price for the skirt, I gave them the money and rushed out as if I’ve stolen something. I was walking fast and could feel the sweat running down my spine. In a blink of an eye I was home. Opening my shopping bags. Looking at my new stuff :) including the 2 bags from the second hand store, a working bag to carry files in and giant black flower über cute ring.

 

I love things! I love old and new things in a completely different way. I don’t like diamonds as the song goes. I don’t think that diamonds are the girls best friend. I think that little things can make a girl happy. I don’t like the extravagant, colossal, ridiculous “things”, but little, beautiful things … make me happy.












and the appropriate song of the day: