Thank you, Zara!

When we first arrived in Valencia and walked around our neighborhood, I was sure that everyone in Valencia had just stepped out of a Vanity Fair ad. Pregnant women with their skinny jeans (I had some when I was pregnant and nearly laughed myself off the bed trying to put one leg on), tall boots and cute fitted jackets; moms dressed in their pencil skirts, trench coats and tall boots pushing their fashionably coordinated children in their carrechoches (strollers) on their way to the grocery store; senior Senoras in their Chanel-inspired fitted tweed suits and coordinating wool coats with their tall, stilletto boots made me feel quite dowdy in my brown corduroy, bootcut pants and Heel to Toe, almost orthopedic Merrell walking shoes. At least I have a somewhat fitted trench coat and some snazzy scarves to blend in. The first week or so, it seemed fashionistas/os surrounded us. I wondered if this was how everyone in Valencia dressed.

As we settled in to life's rhythms here and started moving beyond our neighborhood, I realized that, for the most part, yes, everyone has some sense of fashion here. It's just that our neighborhood is a little more on the Vanity Fair side than other parts of Valencia. And as I walk (self-consciously in my dowdy Grandma shoes that are good for my plantar fasciitis) to El Corte Ingles with the girls and notice the Bugaboo and Quinny strollers (prams/carriages, really - those of you with children probably know how seriously high-end these strollers are) and the not Chanel-inspired but real Chanel suits and designer diaper bags, I see that we are living in the Park Slope/Brooklyn, Bucktown/Chicago area of Valencia. In other words, this is a newly gentrified part of the city in a prime location near the Ciudad de las Artes y Sciencias that attracts young, well-to-do couples with children. Our neighborhood has what every gentrified city in the U.S. has : the well-dressed couples and just as well-dressed cute kids, high-end children's gear, tiny, fluffy dogs, graffiti tagged walls. And here we are, somehow fitting in - just like in the States.

Of course, after Friday evening, I am one step closer to joining the well-dressed ladies of our neighborhood - albeit without the spending the big price tags. Luis, a colleague of John and someone who is determined to do everything in his power to make sure we LOVE Valencia (how could we not?), arranged a shopping outing with me and his girlfriend Ana. We had met before at one of our weekend paella outings, and it was nice to spend time with her sans kids and men. We met at Miia's school after John and I dropped Miia AND Analea off at the school. The plan was that John and Luis would hang out, wait for the girls and take them off - leaving Ana and I to shop, shop, shop.

As we headed to Colon Street (a main shopping area in the center of Valencia), Ana asked if there was anything special I wanted to buy. "No, not really." "So you just want to look?" "Sort of." "I understand." As we walked along, I did comment that I was hoping to look at some boots. "Tall ones?" "Yes." "Oh, I know some places." On the way to the shoe shops, we stopped in to look (and buy) at Spain's shops - Zara, Cortefiel, Mango, Baja, etc. It turns out that Ana and I have very similar tastes. We often picked out the same things to try on even though we were in different parts of the stores. It was a dangerous combination really - a partner in crime who shared my taste in clothing and knew all the shops on Colon Street and the surrounding area. At least, Ana also knew where the sale racks were located! By the end of the evening, I felt like I had finished shopping with a friend. All in all the evening was a success, I added some items to my thin wardrobe (sweaters, a new trench coat, a blouse, a bag to act as a camera-diaper-bottle holder purse) and found some much-needed tights for the girls. Sadly, no skinny jeans (too scared to try them on) or tall boots - yet. But Luis mentioned that perhaps other outings are in the future which will put me steps closer to Vanity Fair.

Next up: Gearing up for Fallas.