Maybe he was still in highschool or maybe he was enrolled in a university? I couldn’t tell because he looked a couple years younger than me(disregarding the fact that I don’t look my age), but he was in full business suit attire, riding the Piccadilly tube line. This is not uncommon in London because everyone here dresses, on the whole, nicer or more stylishly than the average American.
Apart from the differences in accents and apparel, most of the londoners are not much better looking than any of the major cities I’ve been to or lived in in America. Yet I cannot help but be affected by the people here. How and why? Well, as far as I’m concerned, I do like seeing well-dressed people (they make me feel as though I might be in good company), but the bigger reason is that londoners live in a foreign culture from mine and observations lead to questions. Are we so expressive of our emotions or are we just being obnoxious and rude? Are they restraining from consideration or can we call them offensively polite? Do they hate us or do we put them on a pedestal? Those are just the obvious and better known questions but you get the idea. There’s pride and shame on both sides even if a thing were not inferior or superior.
Anyway to get back to the suited lad, I thought he had attractive facial features despite his tousled, possibly by the wind, curls and slightly hunched and skinny frame. That got me thinking of how I might not thought him half as attractive if he was wearing bum clothes and a messy scruff of a beard. I was reminded of how there are so many attractive people in NYC (How can there not be with such concentration of people and diversity?) and that wearing more casual clothes does not make them less so. People who dress especially nice in America do stand out in most places though.
Personally I feel like I’m less judgemental in the States than here in London when it comes to what others are wearing -which is totally bogus of me since my own fashion(or lack of?) is not particularly trendy and stylish but rather with the goal of partially pleasing and indulging myself and partially blending in with others without sacrificing too much comfort.
So of all the exciting things I could have thought and wrote, depicting my time at the Tower of London, roaming Fleet Street, perusing shops at Oxford Circus, or where and what I ate for lunch and dinner, these thoughts from the underground tube and ideas of another alternate version of the Beauty and the Beast tale that enlightened me in the shower, were the first things that came to mind as I asked myself “what mundane moments have I got to share from today?”