A Year in Review – Day 6
I took on Euro Chic in February. I thought it was a good contrast to Rock and Roll and Euro Chic has a level of fancy to it that just intrigued me. Plus, it’s European and I’m American so the style just evokes images of me strolling around Paris looking fabulous while buying baguettes, talking with big, expressive hand gestures and riding the Eiffel Tower. (I’m guessing that’s what French people do all day. Just like Americans spend most of their time inside the Statue of Liberty.)
Well, I got more than I bargained for with Euro Chic. First of all, the footwear is intense. High stiletto boots. Kitten heels. Insanely expensive knee high boots. All of it uncomfortable. None of it farm or park friendly. And the silk scarves! And the silk pants! And the silk shirts! I’ve never been more afraid of sticky peanut butter fingers in all my life! And instead of running towards my children if they had a bloody knee, I’d find myself running away from them. This is why Euro Chic-ers have nannies. The clothing does not allow you to be near your children.
But the most amazing thing about Euro Chic was the way people treated me. The world of sketchy people opened up to me when I was wearing Rock and Roll, which was great, but even better, the service industry opened up to me when I wearing Euro Chic.
Let’s face it, a lot of people that work in the service industry hate children. And with good reason. I’ve seen what my children do to a table at a restaurant. I’ve seen the looks from flight attendants (and passengers) as I’m heading down the aisle with three cranky kids and a backpack full of annoying toys. I get it. So I just thought that’s what the deal is — When you have children, most people (in America, at least) ain’t too pleased to see you.
But with Euro Chic, I found that’s simply not true. I’ll never forget my first big outing in Euro Chic. My family and I were standing in a very long line to get into a science museum in San Francisco. There I was, dressed in my silk pants, blazer, pearls, scarf and super pointy boots, surrounded by other moms who were all in the the usual mom uniforms — mom jeans, pony tails, fleece jacket, backpack — and I remember looking around thinking, Gosh, they all look so comfortable. I wish I was dressed like that.
But then, one of the museum employees started calling out, “Ma’am. Ma’am, can I help you?” I looked behind me but there was no one there. My husband said, in complete disbelief, “I think she’s talking to you.” In a matter of moments, my whole family and I were whisked to the front of the line and ushered quickly into the museum. With no explanation at all, just simply a slight nod from the employee that said, Better people go first. I thought, Wow, so this is how rich people get treated all the time. It has nothing to do with having kids or not, it’s all about perceived economic levels.
It was then that I fell in love with Euro Chic. After all, painful shoes and stained silk shirts are a small price to pay for amazing service.