When I first landed in the Midwest on a mildly chilled December afternoon, I was so thrilled to not have to sweat the moment I stepped out of the front door of the residence I was staying at. This was new to me. After two decades of sweltering in the tropical heat, I was ready to indulge in my newfound curiosity of wools and cashmeres and fleece, all the wonderful things that people do not enjoy enough in winter apparel.I soon learnt very quickly that I was not satisfied with merely buying winter apparel. As my wearing and washing went along, I learnt that fleece is cheap for a reason and anyone who bought acrylic and expected it to work like wool is wasting hard-earned money. Even as a student working for minimum wages, I understood the meaning of quality and economies of scale. You can say that my genetic fascination and appreciation of money has never failed me and as I have gotten older, (I apologise if I over exaggerate my talk of age as I am only in my 20s) I have pushed myself harder and harder to buy quality.
Some things are really worth the wait and the wages. I did not buy cashmere until I was 23 -- needless to say, I was mighty pleased with myself. The same year, I learnt to buy silk as well.
So fast forward to today, I have recently acquired a newfound interest in silk scarves. Not the type that is for utility, but the type that you wear just because you can. It's the superficial side of silk appreciation. I am only worried that my newfound fascination may slowly sucker me into paying $1,965 per pound of silk at Hermès. And I'm still wondering how I had not fallen in love with these silk scarves earlier.
I think it's a sign that I am getting old because when I was a kid, only "adults" wore silk, especially the kind with “stupid prints” all over it. Well, guess what! I like all that mumbo jumbo now. *sigh*
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