Returning briefly to "civilisation" in London has me donning stuff that now feels oddly foreign to me, things that seemed useful to me in my earlier life. Grandma's cherished ring is still gorgeous, but feels over the top on my blackberry scratched fingers. The handbag that I "invested in" right before I decided to leave still smells divine and elegantly carries all sorts of junk, but feels like a bad joke when considering how much food the money I bought it for could buy. The measly pieces of makeup that I still have left make me feel almost garish when I use them, despite being probably unnoticeable to people around me.
|Add caption about silly handbag splurges|