You can take the girl out of Baku.....

Will keep it short: something very worrying happened to me yesterday.
The day started as usual. It was one of my working days of the week, so I got up at 6am, drove to the office. Had a coffee, woke up, checked personal emails….Did a bit of work for a change, and took off to get a sandwich. That was the plan anyway. As I walked past this little boutique shop, I saw it. And it was beautiful. I stopped and stared. I walked in and touched, smelled and caressed it. I looked at the price tag and decided I could not justify it. More importantly though, it worried me. It was very…how do I put it?….Azeri.

It was not my usual style handbag, either black or tan, subtle and elegant, while obviously expensive to those who know, i.e. the British way.
It was loud, bright, and with golden buckles. And it was orange. And when I say orange I mean very orange. The shop assistant, having guessed my concern, suggested I bring it to the window to see in a “natural light”, as the colour might be somewhat different. “Nope. Still pretty orange!”- I thought with a sneaking happiness of a masochist. I knew I should not. I managed to tear myself away from it. As I walked into a shop next door, I ran into my girlfriend who lives nearby, and quickly explained the situation.
Oh- she said excitedly- we must check it out together!

As we walked back in, the shop assistant’s eyes lit up with joy. She knew I lost the battle. Friend proclaimed the bag to be gorgeous.

-Are you sure? But is it not too…you know? – I asked worryingly.
-No, no. The colour is so in right now, honestly!

I decided there was no point fighting the Azeri inside me. We all turn to our roots with age.

My poor husband just looked in disbelief. Probably thinking to himself: You can take the girl out of Baku….but you can not take Baku out of the girl.