Woman In Irish Linen Shirt

When I woke up on Sunday morning, I was very entangled with a choice.

No, not my clothes. Considering that this is the first time I met Miss Pan De’s friend, what I would like to wear that day, I thought about it as early as Monday: milk tea-colored horsebit loafers, a pair of overall washed "mother jeans", thin The belt emphasizes the waistline, a high-count white combed cotton shirt, plus the expensive goose-yellow unstructured linen suit, made by women and men.

Very elegant, very elegant, very much called her in the seventies.

In the past few days, I also used the time to commute to carefully consider what bag to carry. Miss Pan De will definitely carry her drawstring dancing bag, but I'm just a slightly obstructive spectator, so I can't even carry my gym bag. The leather bag is too solemn, and the museum canvas bag that is commonly used, it is inevitable that it seems to be squeaky-thinking about it, I turned out from the depths of the cloakroom a blue and white plaid "Saturn" waist, PVC material, but not What is the obvious class language.

Those with domestic life experience may think of red, blue and white woven bags when they see this plaid.

It's really hard to say which one I love more, Patty Smith or Vivian Westwood.

I bought one of the two colors of this bag. Today I can also carry the red and white color. It looks a bit far from the impression of the red, blue and white woven bag-but it doesn't work.

Today is Singapore’s National Day. The streets are full of red and white colors. I don't want to be mistaken for my nationality.

My worries, my sincere and profound, my real worries are that this set of HIIT made this time has not been able to make my maximum heart rate exceed one hundred and four.

Judging from this key indicator, the good news is that my physical fitness has increased; the bad news is that it has lost its proper function, and I should change to a more intense exercise.

People should keep getting out of their comfort zone.

My brain is willing, really-to this, the heart reluctantly agrees.

But my lungs don't want to.

In the end, my lungs controlled me to do a 15-minute broadcast gymnastics intensity exercise. I didn't even sweat much.

The national flags were hung on the outside of the corridors near the street in the HDB block where I often went to buy dinner by car. The weather forecast originally said that there will be a large area of ​​rain today, but I don't know whether it was artificial rain in advance or what is the reason. When I went out, the temperature was just right, and the jacket did not feel hot when I put it on my arm.

"The weather is very comfortable today. I have ten minutes to get to your house." I sent a message to Miss Pan De.

Miss Pan De: "Can you come upstairs?"

She returned quickly.

I naturally have no reason to refuse.

The podcast on the history of the Mughal Empire is in the earphones. Now I have heard the last paragraph. Apart from anything else, at least I have a clear understanding of some important South Asian place names, and I can also tell Punjab and Mara. The difference between places. In the future, if she wants to tell me something, I won't be blind to touch the elephant, and I won't even be able to tell the truth from it.

In terms of language, I gave up altogether. The Chinese language learning materials for the minority ethnic groups in South Asia are quite limited, learning in English, and there is no systematic teaching material that I am familiar with. Hindi is much easier, but Miss Pande can’t speak it, and it’s useless for me to learn it.

But maybe her father’s mother tongue is Hindi?

I don't know why, but when I think of it, my face becomes hot.

Do you think too much?

When I got out of the elevator, I found the door was open, and Miss Pande was waiting for me at the door. She wore a threaded slim white T-shirt, her hair **** and her neck exposed, which made her eye-catching.

I greeted me: "I'm late? Are you ready to go?"

She shook her head slightly: "Don't worry." She leaned her body and motioned for me to come in.

There is still some time now, but it is said that she goes to the dance classroom at 9 o'clock every Sunday morning, and this time is not well-off. I went inside without knowing it, or went inside, but suddenly I was hugged from behind——

Then came the sound of the door closing.

"What's the matter?" I held her hand and wanted to turn it around.

Miss Pan De hugged tighter, did not speak, just shook her head slightly. The heat of her cheeks was reflected on her shoulders through the shirt, as if it were binding me, and as if wrapping me.

Emotions fluctuate in Miss Pande.

And her ripples cruised to me innocently.

I stopped urging, just touched her arm comfortingly. In a daze, I felt that this scene seemed familiar, and I understood it after only thinking about it for a moment, and said, "Afraid that I will miss the appointment?"

"No." Her voice in reply seemed unassuming, and her breath came to my ears.

I felt a little itchy, and quietly hid: "Don't you want to look at me? Should I turn around?"

She stopped talking again, still holding me, rubbing her cheeks in her hair without itchy. After a while, she said, "Can you just stay like this for a while?"

"Of course." I closed my eyes, still being held by her.

Miss Pan De today seems very different. Obviously before I entered the door, I saw the familiar and aggressive villain, but just a turn, no matter how uneasy and kind I am, it is difficult to hook her to some "bad woman".

But still very cute.

When I realized it, I had smirked for several seconds.

She seems to really like me.

Miss Pan De returned to her usual style. The abrupt episode that just happened was like a bird flying across the sky, leaving nothing but memory. On the contrary, it was me, still smiling. She had just seen my face, and her eyes instantly fluctuated.

"You look a little silly." Miss Pande said.

I was unhappy after hearing this: "I'm not stupid!"

"I mean it looks like. Appearance never affects a person's intelligence." She was still calm, took my hand, stood a little further, and looked at my clothes, "Fudge girl."

I sighed: "Can't you say it's the'Golden Age'?"

"It depends on when you think the'golden age' is. Belle Epoque Paris, or the golden time in the minds of the generation of Americans who are keen on surfing after the baby boom..." Her eyes naturally stayed on my arm. On his jacket, "Oh. I want to change my mouth. It's really retro."

The word "Belle Epoque" was again in French, LaBelleEpoque. This habit of mixing French in English is too easy to make people feel visually. Intellectuals of background."

"Um?"

"You know, those whose first language is English always like to use French words, and sometimes, there is a corresponding expression in English. This common habit of people seems to be a potential barrier to communication... an invisible Membership of an elite club. There is no doubt that the discussion of humanistic topics is almost inevitable, but I am still confused-you know some people even do this when they talk about some fabrics. Poplin Instead of talking about'poplin', but talking about'popeline', mink also has a subdivision of'sable' and'Martre'..."

She looked at me and frowned slightly: "Because France has played the role of a Western fashion leader for a long time in the past? And most of the fabric terms are originally French."

In the middle of the red heart.

I couldn't think of replying for a while, and paused, just saying: "In short, people will have that kind of impression. You can say that it's a stereotype..."

"One thing." Miss Pan De looked over and pointed to herself, "My mother tongue is English."

"I know." I was taken aback for a moment.

She pointed to herself again: "And this native English speaker has indeed received a complete higher education in an English-speaking country."

I nodded slowly: "Okay?"

"So what's your point?" She raised her eyebrows, and it was hard to say whether she was angry or not. "Do you hate me being a mixture of English and French...or do you hate me being too westernized?"

At least for now our hands are still pulling together.

Maybe not so angry?

But I still realized that I had said the wrong thing, and looked at me pitifully, and changed the subject without a trace: "It's not like that. It's just that I don't speak French, and I went to the United States when I went to college. For me, that's even more important. It's like a foreign context... I'm afraid of missing key information because I didn't understand a word. Can you understand it?"

"I can't speak French either." Her tone became calmer and calmer. "You have a Bachelor of Arts degree in art history. What does'Belle Epoque' mean is like a conditioned reflex to you. If I feel That’s right, the implicit meaning behind your words seems to say, you think I’m not Eastern enough, not Indian enough.”

It's over.

Angry.

I almost subconsciously grabbed her other hand, leaned close to her, and whispered: "Sonia..."

She glanced at me helplessly: "It's not a high school student anymore."

I still coquettishly: "I didn't mean that, really."

"So am I oriental enough for you?" She looked over, "Do I have to wear a sari, eat curry and Eastern European cuisine, and go to the sacrament every week, to be considered in line with my cultural background? "

"Uh," I froze for a moment, completely puzzled, "I'm sorry I offended you before—"

Suddenly, his hands were empty. Miss Pende took her hand away.

"How would you feel? If I saw you, I would say,'Wow, your English is really good, Yao', and use the awkward, Indo-European pronunciation to emphasize the bite of'Yao', and sigh you from Without wearing Ao Dai or kimono," she looked at me extremely calmly, her eyes were completely different from the provocation in her words, "How do you think you feel?"

I took a quiet breath.

I remember I just hinted, telling her not to speak French to me?

--Oh.

"They" those whose first language is English...

"Sonia." I fixedly looked at her, "I don't know anything about your cultural background."

She raised her eyelids slightly and did not speak.

I continued: "Seriously, you are very attractive. It used to be like this, but now it will only be more. But for me it is not only the body that is fascinating-of course your appearance is also very charming, there is no doubt about it. ——For me, the way you look at the world, your position in dealing with affairs, your personality, the songs you like to listen to, the way you walk... your past journey, future plans, these are what makes me addicted The reason. I dated you not because of your skin color, nor because of the mysterious place you came from."

Miss Pan De tilted her head and motioned for me to continue.

I was not sure what she was thinking, bit the bullet, and watched her look while speaking: "Uh, I understand that I understand you very simply. Frankly speaking, before this year, I didn’t know the original Maurya Dynasty. There is still such a long period of fighting against foreigners. Well, I don’t know there are many famous whiskeys in Poland..."

"You don't care about my culture." She looked at me.

I thought for a while and didn't deny it, but instead said: "I will say that we are fairly fair in this matter. That's it for Ao Dai. The syllable of'kimono' is not a product of Chinese culture when you hear it, right?"

"It depends on what'Chinese' is." She was smiling but not smiling, "At least I didn't point to ninjutsu and say that it is kung fu."