On Tuesday, I was, still, wearing his jumper he’d borrowed me on the Friday I was cold at his place, when he knocked at my door to tell me to enter his, so now I really have to write about it. Why? Only God knows. I’ve been wearing it ever since.

We, at times, wait for it to happen, but sometimes we make it happen without even thinking about it. A beautiful rollercoaster that I’m not only in awe of, but am on of course, unfolds in my life whenever I go with the flow. It just feels right. But, boy, when it turns out magnificent! It was me who texted him first, a year and a half ago – the days feel so long and the years seem so short nowadays, nowayears – on an orange, blueish sky, one June Saturday late afternoon, to meet me on the hallway. We did, exchanged a couple of words and soon his hands wrapped around my shoulders and I was on his terrace meeting two of his friends. Little did we know about what was awaiting us. The reason for my text makes the best story when we tell it to my friends, his friends, depending on the scenario we almost never plan, yet invariably enjoy. We just live too close, our doors nearly touch, everything happens as every day comes and goes. We might meet, we might not, we just know we’re here. Family dynamics. The glow everyone has when we tell everyone we’re neighbours seem to be the cherry on top of the delicious ice-cream we, sometimes, have while walking around our neighbourhood for hours.

Obviously, there’s a certain feeling when you’re wearing a jumper of someone you like. It’s not that often that I do it, but each time it happened, it happened really genuinely and if it didn’t, then it wasn’t meant to happen and that’s also good, it’s for a reason, too. It’s very rarely, however, that it happens with a person you don’t particularly like (like that), but when your teeth are chattering, you wear their clothes alright. You know what situation is what, so wearing someone else’s clothes, given the circumstances, is cool no matter what. Imagine it’s someone’s you like or, let’s say, your mother’s something.

It makes you feel a certain way, especially when you know they wore it more than 10 times. I don’t know about his jumper, will ask him today, but, right at this very moment, I don’t even care, I love it as it is because the jumper and I, we’ve been having these wonderful times together and I’m sure we’re going to have some more. Wink, wink.

The relationships we make along the way in our lives are the relationships we need to have according to the stages we’re at. We all have friends we love and had the time of our lives with. Life happens, we learn to pay attention, relationships fall apart and that’s ok. A friendship that had started many, many years ago and is toxic is the opposite of a fresh relationship that not only is new, but feels fresh, also (new is not always fresh). Just as fresh as the friendships that you’ve had forever and forever is where you’re both intending to go… You both feel like two juicy, crisp watermelons and, as the seasons go by, each of you might transform in some other fruit or vegetable. It only brings more juiciness to the McDonald’s you share on a random Monday evening, after the aforementioned Friday, over Mulholland Drive.

So, I went to his house, on the Tuesday following the above Monday, I’m actually writing this from his house. He’s dismounting a closet with friends. Literally. It goes to another friend’s house.

When you feel a bit out of space and space is all you’re dreaming of, doing yoga, taking a shower, putting a favourite thing and some neon pink socks on prepares you for you don’t know what, but squat, what?

You might think we love each other. We do, we didn’t choose each other for neighbours, yet slowly, but surely, I got to wear his clothes. Last year, for Halloween, my Mia needed a white shirt, so I rushed, in my robe, into his closet. It felt like home and while home might be about my love of awesome clothes, it’s also about my love of people, hello!

Being honest might not get you a lot of friends, but it will always get you the right ones, John Lennon.

On the Friday – we started this with – morning, amongst the stuff we talked via texts, from our homes, I told him, out of the subject: Jees, I miss putting on some glitter!

A new befriended friend over a girls’ dinner table on the same Friday said that when we’re falling in love, we kind of slip into a form of disease. The dinner table included way more than dinner, it lasted until almost 1am, so, by that time, that type of discussions arose and I’m not talking in codes here, it’s, of course, about love that we got to talk. I’d heard the disease theory before, knew for sure what I believed in, could’ve just shut up, but no, didn’t even think about it and said out loud, in a warrior kind of stance, that I’m too big of a romantic to even consider the affirmation, life is all about falling in love, about staying in love, about loving. What else is there? We were eight girls and it was mesmerising to observe and nourish each other’s state. Get a different point of view, consolidate yours, shatter some kind of wall, consolidate another, but also indulge in a feminine vibe, with its delicacies and fights.

Another one said that we could set up a psychological test for the new partner in order to know, from the beginning, if there’s potential for a healthy relationship or not. Imagine my face. Heart. Oh, but you know stuff anyway, from the get go, it’s only up to you to be objective and see the red flags (when it’s not the aforementioned disease, there are no flags anyway, it’s love, chillax) and do something about it or ignore the red flags altogether and ride the wave like it’s so sunny and fuzzy that nothing can stand in the way of surfing like a pro. One. 

But, then, two came straight away: doesn’t being that rational about someone shut the emotional from the start? And it is the emotional, after all, that makes a potential something… the thing. It makes one vulnerable as f*ck, but at least one knows one tried entirely and, now, it either turns into a butterfly or dies. The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off, as Gloria Steinem said. Surfboard, surfboard.

Hire me to tell stories.

The discussions were only heating up when my neighbour called me past 00:00, some days are just full of electricity: Cristina, are you with a man? I was supposed to be at his place which is, basically, my place, long before. The friends dismounting the closet (today) were coming. I had to excuse myself, leave the table and tell him what I was, actually, doing. He knew what I was doing, he was just checking in on me, we exchanged some jokes and it felt familial. Warm. I left very soon after, you know what it feels like when someone in the family says Come home!. 

It was at 3am that Friday to Saturday that I first got to wear the jumper I’m, still, wearing, as I’m talking with the friends at his home, on the Tuesday following the Mulholland Monday following the Friday. Are you riding the rollercoaster by now? The closet has been, officially, dismounted, music is, basically, air to me, my neighbour works in music, the music school and the museum of music are our neighbours (for real) and I love this jumper, nerding out and romanticising the shit out of anything and everything. Victory is the name of our neighbourhood (for real).

I mean I consider him family, it’s up to him whether he’s the super cool relative you always enjoy being around or the one you take for who they are and love anyway, it’s up to us. 

I wore a completely different jumper to meet my friend, Justice, before the girls roundtable, before wearing my neighbour’s jumper. My golden jumper I only wore 4 or 5 times, enjoyed seeing in my wardrobe and winked at each time our eyes met over the last seven years.

Justice and I met for drinks at a place we, sometimes, dance together at, depending on the music. We talked, this time around, and we had such a romantic girlfriendly evening. Justice comes from the band we, both, are huge fans of. She’s Justice, I’m Justice.

Where am I going with this? Vulnerability might freak the shit out of some people, but it would only get the coolest ones closer. Same with the truth.

Are you still reading this?

Because I’m only getting started here. Kiddin, kiddin. Fun fact: I’m in a group of 100 people, these days, on Whatsapp, that enrolled into this 21 days program where we train to stay in the chair position by the wall, for 10 minutes. At some point, our trainer asked us to say, on this group, whether or not we surprised ourselves complaining today. If so, answer Yes, if not No. Someone answered No (but it was painful). True dat, I feel you, my friend, lmao, and I feel so good.

Thank you and have a wonderful day or night!

At other other times, be careful to not only pay attention to the red flags, but to your heart skipping beat after beat, f*ck fear and go for it.

Later edit: We’re not together, obviously, nor do we want to be.

I would wear, though, the clothes Harry Styles wore in the Winter 2021 Dazed shoot.