I had a classmate from Turkey when I lived in Berlin. Before she got married to an older Turkish man in Berlin and joined our class, she worked in a sock factory in a small Turkish town. She started her job when she was 14 years old.
Our German was never good enough for me to ask her questions about working in a factory or to sit down and just chat and become friends. She would get mixed up whenever a classmate would ask her any question.
A few nights ago as Martin happened to be walking by me, I glanced at the back of his feet.
“Stop everything,” I shouted. He looked at me; he saw my eyes twitching as I watched his feet.
I didn’t even have to say a word.
“There’s another hole, isn’t there?” he said.
For the last 2 1/2 years, our little family has been on a self-emposed effort we call The No New Clothes Challenge.
I’m not sure what to say.
“Oh Katie, what a cute shirt! Where did you get it?”
“Oh thanks! It’s from Ann Taylor Loft… umm… over two years ago.”
I keep thinking about how I should probably start buying more clothes again. I don’t need new clothes. So I stop and ask myself why I’m compelled to go buy some then. And you know what I figure? I think I should go buy more clothes because THAT’S WHAT PEOPLE DO.
I’m an American splitting life between a 480 square foot apartment in Berlin, Germany and – get this – a house made of old tires in the Rocky Mtns.
This blog chronicles the journey of Making This Home.Meet Katie.
