Peço desde ja desculpa à C. pela ausência e à T. pelo negativismo e a todos pelo facto de ir escrever este post em inglês.
Por um motivo muito simples: a pessoa que nele será visada vai agradecer.
I’m a very positive person.
At least I think so, the ones around me do so too, and what happens to me in my life (nihilist sort of exercise going on here – I’m sorry…) is the living proof I’m a positivist.
The only thing is that I have another perspective on things, I may assume, and that’s why some people take me so wrongly…
Just like T., for instance, who has told me I should not complain so much. T. as a portuguese, it’s part of my condition to want more – don’t take that as a complaint.
Anyways, cutting out the crap, I’d like to tell you about the bag I’ve been insanely carrying since April 6th 2013 and it’s symbolism.
For us (me and who gave it to me) it’s the “G Bag”.
And more than the social status it may bring, the “G Bag” reminds me, everytime I go out to fetch bread or fruit, to go to a meeting or anywhere else, of someone who could passionately offer me such thing.
With “G Bag”, I am telling you about a green Goyard Shopper a dear friend gave me as a present, after watching The Tempest at MC93 in Paris, in a very beautiful and exquisit homage to my green hair.
More than anything, I don’t care about brands, what they can make for you, etc.
I care about the product, its quality, what it can mean, its history, I feel I’m a conscient and aware buyer, or at least I try to do so. I try. Thinking it objectively, I don’t need more than half the things I own, but I still own them, and I am still – in comparison to most my friends – the one with the smallest wardrobe. And whenever someone opens its doors and pulls anything out, I can always tell the story of that piece.
The “G Bag” was a total hit as soon as I wore it for the first time.
J.C.G. who was in Paris at that time, was the first one to notice I was carrying a huge amazing green bag by Goyard. She was stunned.
Then some others followed.
People would stop to see it pass.
The G Bag.
It is amazing how this piece of Classical is such a strong and bold statement for someone my age, my style or my attitude. It wouldn’t apparently match my crust bands’ T-shirts, but my Friend says it does. My Friend says I rock it better than anyone else.
This was a conceptual gift, to put it as I apprehend it.
Chosen according to me.
And as an object, it is stronger than so many others you can carry.
Stronger than walking into my Mom’s birthday party barefoot or naked dipping on our swimming pool with guests in for the weekend.
The “G Bag” is appalling to many.
Either because it’s so pricy, or because it is too classical, or because it is so green or so big.
You name it.
As we were travelling as a group touring a show, pictures were being taken every five minutes and uploaded on Instagram, the source of the first jealous comment I would receive on the “G Bag”.
I would then chose not to tell the story behind it.
But I probably will someday.
The reason why I carry it is because of it’s meaning, so positive and so beautiful, spontaneous and ultimately bold.
I then told my Friend it would look amazing in my cheap and not-so-chic lifestyle here in Lisboa, where I am not on stage all the time, where my green hair had to go the week after finishing the show, otherwise I’d have gone nuts over the excess of incredible comments and street approaches I was getting, or where carrying such a bag to go grocery shopping in a country with the economical situation of ours would internally feel like an insult.
He told me I was brave and strong and that it was, after all, a gift.
And that I was not the kind of girl to gift because I always looked like I needed nothing more than what I had.
He saw that.
And was so sad when I got my hair back to brown.
Today I told him the “G Bag” suffered an accident: inside it some rotten oat and fruit porridge had spilled.
I was so sad and fucked at me for using that bag everyday, out to everything!…
I was so disappointed at myself, overthinking all thoughts through the symbolism of that object…!
Texted Him on how would I take care of that mess.
And He answered it was fine, because the “G Bag” was very resistant, “(…) just like you. (…)”.
In fact, the “G Bag” is very resistant.
Very practical: it’s wearable with pretty much anything, from laid back to chic, from flats to high heels.
It is water resistant.
It is very strong: the “G Bag” can put up with at least one hundred books, a laptop, a photo camera, three or four pairs of sunglasses, a little bag with makeup and all my travel sized skinprodutcs I can’t live without otherwise my skin condition will get back at me, my keys, car keys and wallet and iPhone.
The best part? It has a little inner pouch, reachable though a leash, where you can store smaller things and have them accessible all the time.
The “G Bag” is amazing to go to the supermarket (am I getting obsessive with going to the supermarket here?) and to carry things you always end up carrying home on a normal day of errands in the city: because it is lightweighted, the G Bag is amazing when almost empty, but bearable when almost full.
Today was the first day I didn’t use it since I got it.
Because I was afraid of ruining it trying to wash the rotten porridge out of it.
Then everything was back to fine again.
And I got some new comments saying I was a negative person and this story came along: how my new favorite thing was the blossom of positivism and how positive and good spirited I am, unlike many of you in the audience there think!…
And the best part?
Apart from the story of the G Bag which you don’t know, the G Bag is just like everything I love in life: it is unattainable unless you go to 233 Rue Saint Honoré in Paris.
the picture above it’s me at Paris-Orly Airport. This picture was stolen from André’s Instagram.
this picture was also stole from André’s Instagram: the day we went to a sketch review show in Lisboa.
this picture was taken in my house for Tabu, Sol newspaper‘s magazine of May 3rd 2013’s issue featuring me.
I have never credited the “G Bag” anywhere, but everybody only asks me about it.
It is how BIG, it is.
Just like the friendship.