She insists that we go into a luxury boutique and makes me try on a high-priced item.
“But… it’s way too expensive,” I say.
She checks that the saleswoman is out of earshot, then declares, “What do you care? Papa is the one paying for it, anyway.”
I don’t give in. One stubborn stain will ruin the piece.
“Suit yourself,” she concludes. “You’ll always look like a bag lady.”
photo © Jorg Karg