A year ago, I went on vacation. Milan was my choice. The fashion capital, Italian beauties...the smell of delicious pizza)) Golden Quad....Walked into Gucci just to "breathe"
The guard looked at my mass-market jeans like a biohazard. A consultant floats over, skin whiter than snow, smelling like an oil well.
"Ciao, bella!" she sings"Look at this jacket"
"Oh, cute" I say touching the sleeve. I look at the price tag. The number has so many zeros I got dizzy.
"Is this the price or the CEO's phone number?" I ask)))
The consultant stopped smiling - "It’s an investment" she says sternly "Your grandkids will wear it"
"My grandkids will wear my debts if I buy this. Do you take kidneys?" I joked))
She didn't laugh. In Italy, humor ends where high fashion begins
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Left the boutique, went to Zara. At least the guards there don't make me feel like a stray cat. Milan is beautiful. But only if you have a spare kidney or a gold mine in your pocket(((