As I walked into the Pilates class, I noticed one of the trainees was wearing tights.
You will ask - what can be so stunning about tights, it is a garment that is supposed to wipe the sweat from your entire lower body simultaneously, and then keep it inside so that you don't have wet spots on the back of the knee.
This is a garment that, in the best case, will stick to your tusk (if you have a really nice tusk), and in the worst case, it will stick to your tusk (if you've crossed the age of 30 and have other pursuits beyond modeling).
This is a garment that is only there because it is not socially acceptable to exercise naked.
This is a garment that requires you to face the question of whether you want to spend NIS 300 on tights or would you rather they know what color your underwear is, because the fabric stretches every time you bend over.
Well, you are right.
But he was still a really successful tights.
It had a kind of floral print, but not the kind that says "I wore my most beautiful tunic to your wedding", but chic and a red ankle-length finish, the kind that says "I'm special, I'm not like everyone else".
You will ask - but what, talking clothes?
Well, yes, the pants I wore to class say "life beat me".
After I complimented the trainer on the tights, and after lying on my back in the "dead cockroach" position, I made a note to look for them online when the class was over.
The instructor said to blow out of the mouth, and I went over the state of the account in my head.
The instructor said to take weights - and I wondered how my tussock would look in the floral tights...
But wait!
second!
I don't need tights.
I already have three pairs of the Beuker and two more pairs of Paresh.
I want to buy tights just so someone knows I'm not like everyone else?
who will??
Who the hell would give me that much thought, and before 9 in the morning?
And it's fine to pay for a vacation, studies, culture, for everything that will fill my head with thoughts and my heart with beauty, but how will I have money left for a movie if I'm constantly buying tights?
Did I grow more legs?
Who needs so many tights?
Listen, I can't buy anymore.
I mean, of course I can and even do it, but it seems to me that I am approaching a boiling point.
And it's not even about the money!
It's more of a general disgust with this obsessive consumerism that has taken over us.
If a decade or two ago the advertisements were waiting for me only on television or between the pages of the newspaper, now they are with me in bed, in line for the doctor, in the bathroom.
They know exactly what I like and how much I'm willing to pay.
There are entire factories in China for girls like me, who want to look the most special in exactly the same way.
From "Drug addicts" (lyrics: Micah Shetrit, music: Arkadi Duchin): "Lawyer, tax consultant, astrologer, developed muscles, escort girl, two and a half horsepower air conditioner, car alarm, McDonald's, plane ticket, pool membership, Mosquito repellent spray, chips, electric sheet, push-button telephone, fax machine, Swiss watch, Swiss chocolate, leather jacket, snacks, Super Mario, Brussels sprouts, cans, air freshener, creams, wild mushrooms, champignons, vitamins, plastic bags , small cocktail umbrellas, gasoline, batteries, bells, tranquilizers, gold ring, chicken breast, parking tickets, pancakes, shares of petrochemical plants, high school diploma, BA MA, black belt, earplugs, second wife, two children, and more A long shopping list..."
Enough, friends, you'll just have to believe me that I'm just as special as everyone else.
And as the partner says: "I don't drink coffee where it's cool. It's cool where I drink coffee."
In the end I didn't buy the tights (but only because they were out of stock).
were we wrong
We will fix it!
If you found an error in the article, we would appreciate it if you shared it with us