About You

Almost every time after the first day of a collection, I drive home with the car full of thoughts.
Fatigue seems to want to get in too, but I offer it a seat in the trunk, and it grumbles its way in.

—Sorry, little brother, I say, there’s no room inside; the crew is full.

I should collapse into bed at home.
Because my family is waiting.
Likely, hot soup is steaming.
The cozy robe is swinging, missing me.
Slippers are nudging at the door.
But, as usual, I don’t rush.
I drive slowly, carrying my thoughts as if they were the most fragile cargo.

What am I thinking about?
About you.

I slow down.
I raise the volume of the radio.
The thoughts, seated in the crew, begin to move.
Swaying to the melody of a favorite song.
They start to oscillate.

Morning.
Before the clock hits eleven, the boutique doors begin to open timidly.
Some have taken a day off.
Others have shortened their lunch break.
Some have snuck away from work.
Some clutching their little ones in their arms.
Some still keeping them safely in their tummies.
Some have arranged for someone to “tend” to them for at least an hour.
Some glance nervously at the clock.
Some keep running out to answer an urgent work call.

But.
All SMILE.

Some are familiar, and upon meeting, AGAIN IN LINE, they greet each other joyfully.

Some try on outfits two at a time in the fitting room.

Some wave and settle to try on clothes in the corner of the fitting rooms.
Those standing nearby encourage:
—Try on boldly, men rarely come in here.

Almost all of you come to appear in front of the “central” mirror.
Sometimes two or three meet while trying on the same dress, glance at each other, and frame an even better photo:
—If you buy it, I’ll buy it too.

Those standing in line with their “bundles” comment, advise, examine.
They rejoice at the chance to see the same thing on others.
You zip up each other, help tie bows.

Sometimes, after trying on your choices, you sit comfortably with coffee, just enjoying watching others try on clothes.

And I am there, moving around.
There’s no time to stand and admire.
But the feeling that one big family is buzzing is heartwarming.
Leaving behind work. Homes. Daily troubles and mishaps.
Adjusting longer lunch breaks, rescheduling clients, skipping meals—you choose the line.
And knowing every time where you are going and that you’ll have to wait…
YOU COME BURSTING THROUGH THE BOUTIQUE DOORS AGAIN WITH THE BIGGEST SMILE, and the store starts clattering with women’s voices and spreading the best mood.

But if during the day I don’t have time to pause and admire THIS SIGHT, know that in the evening,
after work, after putting the boutique to sleep,
on the drive home, I slow down for this exact reason.
I swing the image of the day in my mind and still cannot believe it’s real.
I probably will never get used to it.
But if I ever lose it—I’ll cry out loud.

This is one of the most beautiful feelings I have been GIFTED in this life.
And I say it completely sincerely.
After all, I only juggle clothes.
Not feelings.
So why do they move me so strongly?

I hug,
V.