El Quitasol

Yesterday while walking along the streets of Sol, Meli and I chatted paying little attention to the shops we passed until turning back to realize the rest of the group had disappeared. A brief flash of panic momentarily swelled in the pit of my stomach.  Rapidly my eyes scanned the crowd. Finally falling onto Vivian's delighted smile. She excitedly waved us into a shop they had stopped at.

Then entrance reminded me of those on The Hill back home, with glass paneling encasing windows and creating a small hallway before the entrance to the shop. The mannequins emitted a similar vibe, memory and observation tricking my brain into thinking it was a simple second-store. Those preconceptions quickly vanished and for a moment the world seemed to melt away. Dressed in targets skirts and college T-shirts we stepped through a portal into the world of only seen by Princesses and the rich bankers that live in the million dollar flats with views of El Parque De Retiro.

It was like entering a museum. I stood marveled but scared to touch what seemed to scream, "STROKE ME!" The walls of the furrier were covered with lavish jackets and furs straight out of Goya's El Quitasol. The attendant approached us. Apprehensive that he would yell and force us out. Instead, through my broken understanding of Spanish, he help pick out furs for Jade, Vivian, and I to try on! He spoke to us about the furs and did his best animal impressions for our delight and understanding. Nine thousand Euros may be slightly out of our budgets for this trip, but for a moment we radiated with elegance and light as if painted by Goya himself. Now only to find Kao a parasol...

My favorite moment this week was listening to the first musician play on the metro car.