Fashion in Pau

I am a firm believer that most things are, in fact, relative. This includes fashion.
I packed most of my nice clothes, scared to be under dressed among the French. I don't really wear sweats in public and I always like to look somewhat nice, so I wasn't very worried. I have thus discovered that there are frumpy, tacky, and ghetto people almost everywhere.

On a normal day here in Pau, one would notice the scarves. Men, women, and little children all sport these convenient neck warmers with almost every kind of outfit. They are shorter and tied a bit differently here, like so:

I was thinking about it today, I don't think I would have ever tied this scarf like this in the States. 

You see women who look blatantly French, dark colors, skinny jeans, heels, a blazer. The definition of chic. But then right behind them will be an overweight person in nasty sweat pants. I think we get the idea that everyone in a certain place all do the same thing. This couldn't be less true, and there are always going to be a mix of fashionistas and tacky schmucks. My friend Christopher commented that one of his bus rides was strangely reminiscent of the People of Walmart. 

Another strange realization: places in France are comparable to regions in the USA. For example, a student worker we know from Pau is going to study abroad in Ohio or Iowa, I don't remember, but when telling people this, she always get's a surprised "WHY?" No one can image actually wanting to go to these places when you have New York, the west and east coast, and many other more exciting places. My friends and I have come to the conclusion that Pau might just be France's Iowa. Of course to us, any place in France is amazing, but it's funny how these ideas transcend cultures. There are many, many high end shops here in Pau, and we always wonder who shops there. People here don't have a ton of money and no one really dresses like a fashion model, and this is reflected in H&M being notably busier than Hugo Boss. 

Despite the fashion standards, I am truly having a good time here. I probably would prefer a larger city if I was ever to live here, but it's France all the same. 

Also, I have noticed that I am getting less nervous when I am forced to talk to French people. Today at the bus stop, a man asked me if the bus went to a certain stop and if it had already left. I completely understood him, and I found myself answering without thinking about it. I also had my first dream in French. It was really strange. Hilary Clinton was my aunt and we were in a huge store frantically looking for Bose headphones. She started speaking French, and I don't remember what she said, but I recognized what language it was. I then asked her, "Tu parles Francais?" (You speak French?), and then said "Bien sûr tu parles Francais." (Of course you speak French). It was very short and simple, but it was in my subconscious!