Argentines LOVE their shoes. The street I walk along to school -- Avenida de Santa Fe -- is lined with shoe stores, and I have to swerve to avoid the window-shoppers who just stop in the middle of the sidewalk to stare through the "REBAJAS!!"-graffitied windows at the rows and rows of zapatos. Though lately, I've become one of these window-shoppers... seeing as I'm in desperate search of some cute (and cheap!) shoes so I can attempt to blend in a little better with these porteños (people of the port).
Try as I might, even when my mouth is zipped tight to avoid letting any English or poorly-accented Spanish slip out, I still feel like my appearance screams "Yo soy estadounidense!!!!" I regret getting a haircut before I came here, because all the porteñas have flowing, ass-length hair that somehow manages to avoid frizzing up in the humidity. However, I feel like I finally found a place where I can dress as weird as I want, and not look so strange. Purple high-top Chucks paired with leopard print leggings? Totally normal and fashionable. Score 1 for Emily Grubman; I have found my people.