Hopefully I haven't scared you off with my perfume ramblings, have I? Nonsense, you're a journal, you don't get scared. I still am delving deeper into the world of perfume, and enjoying every minute of it. It makes me glad to fit in with a world of wonderful choices and superb availability here in Europe. It's perfume paradise.
Anyways, times change. And while some of my tastes remain similar, some sadly like to be sly little foxes and deviate my idea of acceptable. In other words, I got tired of my haircut. So, me and my dear auntie went to the nearby city of Bar after arranging an appointment at a well known salon. Two buses later, we hopped into a quaint looking kitschy place that radiated and oozed warmth and friendy manners.
I wasn't let down in the least. I sat, listing through magazines, wondering what I would decide to chop off, smooth out, and spike. But, as far as I will experiment in the world of scent, my hairstyles are never extreme. So I explained nicely, take two or three inches off the bottom, trim the long bangs in the front just a little bit shorter, but keep the volume. With a concise nod, the hairdresser set to work.
With lavishly washed hair that smelled like peaches and apricots (I adore peaches and apricots), she trimmed with the steadiest and quickest hand I've ever known a person to able to do. She sculpted my wavy, poofy, and yarn like hair into sleek silky shine. It was amazing, watching her work, and I wanted to grovel at her feet and beg to learn her magic touch and techniques. Well, almost.
I left the salon 8 euros and what seemed like a kilogram lighter. I was also feeling radiant and extremely happy, having spritzed on Gucci Envy Me earlier on in the day. And that was true, I envied myself, and I'm sure some of the girls who looked over at my satin locks envied me too. The towns and cities here are much lighter in a way, less polluted from the outside world and yet pristinely informed of what they are in the middle of in.
I wandered around town, looking through boutiques and remembering the times with the satin dress and ridiculous prices of fashionable clothes. Was I ever glad my splurging days were over. I bought a cup of yoghurt and a portion of burek (amazing food that it is, phillo pastry or thinly rolled dough wrapped or layered around fillings, which can be anything from feta cheese, ground meat, mushrooms, spinach, grated potatoes, etc) and rejoiced in the moment.
After half an hour, the heat wave started to progress, and the temperature went from the usual 36 to higher, and my poor temples were starting to feel it. I ducked in the shade as me and my auntie got a ride home from my grandfather, and vowed to explore more of the town the next opportunity I got, to fully be able to write about everything that can be found in it.
So, maybe five back massages later and ten pretty pleases will I be able to saunter off with my aunt and continue my journey through the concrete forests of Bar.