--“I feel stuck. I am thinking of changing my life colour.” “You cannot change the colour just like that. It’s not only your life, it’s our life. I am happy with our life as it is, I don’t want to change anything.” “Last year you changed our living room to a piece of fluffy blue paradise without asking me what I want. I will only change the colour of MY life. They say a change of colour doesn’t actually change your life, but just the way you look at it.” “Then it’s just a waste of money!” “I am going to give it a try.”--
(I have no idea where this is going to bring me.)
I have nothing against veils, khimars, niqābs or burqas. If you want to wear one – go ahead. Never say never, but I wouldn’t wear any of those because my man says (or even asks) I should. Those are the rules of modesty I don’t relate to and I am not going to follow them. But here’s a peculiar fact – I do tend to consider putting less clothes on when my man (or a good male friend) encourages me to. I don’t only consider, I actually do wear less clothes or more daring outfits in many such cases. Why do I resist to follow one rule, but don’t resist to follow another when they are both different from my vision on what I should wear?
A song from 1991 that never ceases to inspire me:
Костер – Машина времени
Timeline: 1984 – February 9 Andropov died. It’s quite fast after Brezhnev and doesn’t make such a strong impression anymore. I remember looking forward to hearing the signals of factories and cars during the minute of mourning.