I do know the word for "a case of dough filled with a savory filling"

The neighborhood in which we now live consists mostly of Polish families and young hipsters. I feel that in order to fit in I either need to start dressing way better or learn Polish. Seeing as my 5 plus years of French never really stuck, I'm thinking that outfitting myself might be my best bet.

In an effort to pick up tips, I've been watching people in the subway and on the street, but I'm concerned that I just don't have it in me. I'm not saying that I dress horribly now; I would even say that I am able to pull myself together more times than not. It's just that the full-on hipster look seems complicated and layered and requires an ability to throw together seemingly random pieces while making it all look effortless and almost accidentally. I tend to find a good outfit and stick with it so that I have maybe 4 or 5 really good outfits to choose from, all of which pre-planned and fine-tuned down to the jewelry and attitude to accompany it.

The pre-planning of the thing adds further complication to the whole process since I can't pull off the effortlessness that these urban hipster seem to bathe in. When I wear one of my pre-constructed creations, I feel like I am just screaming, "This took me 2 days and 20 outfit changes to come up with - not including the countless advice and reassurance from friends and family!!"

Which of course bleeds into a whole other hurdle: I can barely ever dress myself. I mean, I have the actual mechanics of the process down (one leg into pants at a time, make-sure to align buttons before commencing buttoning and so on), it's the confidence in trusting that what I think looks good actually does that I'm missing. And I just can't imagine that the 20-somethings that I end up studying go through those same apprehensions before leaving the house ("Are you sure the crying-Indian-in-front-of-rainbow t-shirt with the Harry Potter scarf and army boots with leg-warmers comes off as ironic and not as a mentally-challenged 11-year-old?")

I had dyed part of my hair purple in hopes that would make up for just wearing jeans and a black sweater for the 12th day in a row, but having transplanted myself to the hipster mecca that is Brooklyn, I feel like I have to start working a little harder and start layering up the irony. Taking a look around my room at the frog rainboots, pink Hedwig the Owl hoodie, and frankenstein-hands gloves, though, makes me feel like I'm going to end up much closer to the 11-year-old end of things.

Maybe I should go ahead and order some Berlitz Polish tapes online.

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