Bershka And Other Foreign Wonders

You guys. Bershka. Check it out. My brother and I almost cleaned the store out while shopping in Bucharest. They were playing crazy European house music and I caught myself thinking, just for a moment, that I might never leave. Bershka, Bucharest, Europe. I felt my identity shifting.

Alas I am back home in beautiful New Jersey but I have been googling half-remembered lyrics of some crazy Eastern European club anthem to no avail. Maybe I'll always be an American girl, but I'd still like to be able to call up my crazy European alter-ego while out for a run.

To further my inner European identity I also picked up some awesome European sneakers. And a scarf (even their men wear  cotton scarves.) I got some "fancy sweats" that defy category -- two pairs. Three perfect t-shirts for $6 each and a slouchy cardigan at a store called, ironically, New Yorker. My travelling companions had to pull me out of a massive Zara before I blew my life savings (Zara Home and Baby!).

But seriously guys. I left my heart in Bucharest. It is such a beautiful city, with a vibrant life, and humble, open people. I felt enriched. I felt safe. I felt stimulated. It reminded me of my time in Madrid. It's a city that's not trying to be anything else than what it is. It is too consumed with it's national identity and it's own experience to worry about comparing itself to someplace else. Where else would you want to be?

I have a few more pictures, but I am struggling. They won't get it across. This city doesn't want to be reduced to 2D.