“I need more of these looks… you know. Those typical looks of the chicks during fashion week, those who hurry in their posts from A to B and for some reason only on crosswalks. They stare at their high heels and don’t even notice they’re being photographed. You know, they wear those weird coats and oversized glasses and even their dresses are somehow… strange. Look, like this”: I jump at my feet, put one hand on my hip, open my mouth ever so slightly and try to look cool and relaxed. Then I change my mind and try to walk up and down in my tiny room – as if I was walking down a kilometer long crosswalk.
“Do you know what I mean?!” I exclaim out of breath, while I try to figure out the next pose, leaning against the cupboard, with my arms above my head.
The fat jelly sits right in front of me and looks at me with his big eyes – speechless.
I realize that he doesn’t know what kind of look I mean. I sit down in front of him and consider.
“Adult!”, I shout.
“Adult looks is what I need! Like a proper, grown up woman!”
The word “adult” doesn’t even exist in my vocabulary. How am I supposed to find it in my wardrobe?
However I refuse to give up and pull a coat out of my wardrobe. “Is this grown up?” I ask and we both stare skeptically at the piece of fabric. “It has flowers on it”, the fat jelly thinks out loud. None of us knowing whether that’s adult or not. Shrugging my arms I put it on, with a simple, one-colored piece underneath. “Now with a croc-clutch in white” I exclaim while I read the exact same description from the label. “What the hell is a clutch?” he asks me, me… while I was the one to explain “Variety Theater/Cabaret” with “that’s where you can watch people do acrobatics while having dinner… or something like that.”
So as an answer, I put the white croc-clutch in front of his face.
In the end, the look didn’t really end up being grown up… with polka dots and bows on the shoes and no crosswalk to be found for me to walk up and down on. It’s the will that counts! And as a Kölsch Mädel, a citizen of Cologne, posing in front of the cathedral there’s only one thing for me to finish with:
“Et hätt noch emmer joot jejange.” (It has always worked out fine before) – Even without a grown up look.