Since our terrific socially-distanced trip to New Mexico six weeks ago for my birthday, V and I have been settling in to life in Ciudad Juárez together. It has been both great, and tedious, and prolonged, kind of like 2020.
Three years ago at this time, we were settling in to Australia, and as much as I love Australia, that was sure a bumpy period. I wrote then about the challenges of settling into a new overseas posting when everything keeps.going.wrong. My post was called Glass Half Full, and it was about the struggle to stay positive and keep things in long-term perspective. The attitude of my then-boss (who had nearly 30 years in the Foreign Service) inspired me to reframe some of my struggles as things to take in stride, no matter how much they all sucked in the aggregate.
Some of those lessons have been coming in handy again over the past few weeks; I have made progress settling in to my life here, and have racked up some small wins. But the difficulties posed by the ongoing pandemic, the steep learning curve of a new and busy job, managing a remote team, the general amount of time and effort it takes to wrap up a Permanent Change of Station (PCS) move, and most importantly, the fact that my husband V had to leave for a business trip seven weeks ago and still has not been able to return, have all weighed on me. Because I have been through a few bumpy PCS moves now myself, I know that it works out eventually. Some of the problems – like waiting for your diplomatic accreditation or household effects to arrive – resolve on their own with time and patience. Other problems require more energy. It is both helpful and necessary to keep reframing the inconveniences as temporary and part of the adventure, and reminding yourself that the settled life you had before was once something you had to build from scratch, too. But as one of my colleagues here on his 11th tour recently confessed, I like the beginning of each tour the least.
I am going to try something a little different with this post. I’m not a beauty or fashion blogger, nor do I plan to become one. I don’t want to disappoint long-time readers who follow this blog to read about the Foreign Service and overseas life/travel, or attract new followers looking for fashion topics that I will likely never talk about again. But I can’t see creating my own YouTube channel to make just one video on this topic, and I really want to write about it. So I thought I would make an exception to regular topics and do a one-off post on one of my favorite things: the discontinued Louis Vuitton Multicolore collection of handbags and accessories, and how to spot a fake. (I want to emphasize that I do not in any way wish to be insensitive to the financial and social strain we are facing right now by discussing this topic, nor to ignore the fact that during the global pandemic handbags are not a priority for anyone, including me. I simply enjoy researching this bit of nostalgia, and it interests me and cheers me up. So for the niche audience who would enjoy it or benefit from it, I would like to share what I have learned as a mini-escape from the other things I have to do. If it comes across more superficially, please know that is not my intention.)
My interest in this topic might be surprising, as I’m not much for shopping and generally dislike pop culture. But acquiring a few items for my Multicolore collection has been a longtime dream, and when I eventually did so, I realized there was a real gap in reliable information on how to spot a fake. So I decided I wanted to share some very specific layperson tips on how consumers – if so inclined – can purchase authentic Multicolore items. Consumer education can help avoid money lost to fraud, and it can help informed consumers stop underwriting the unethical and exploitative labor practices of the transnational crime syndicates that benefit from counterfeit sales.
(Regular readers who are not interested in this, please bear with me, and we’ll get back to business as usual with my next post! It is a very niche topic on an already niche blog, and it will not offend me if you give this one a pass. But you never know… it might still be interesting!)
The coronavirus pandemic has much of the country and the world stuck at home, and everyone is coping the best way they know how. For me, it is a mere worry and an inconvenience, as we were supposed to leave for our next assignment in Mexico last Saturday and now our departure date is unknown. For others, it is unbelievable fear, grief, and stress. This makes me feel both grateful and ashamed for my safe place to live, job, and food security. Although I am scared for my parents in their 70s and my nana in her 90s, and I myself am at higher than average risk for contracting the virus and developing life-threatening complications if I catch it, I have taken extreme precautions to keep this from happening. This of course is afforded by the many privileges I have, not least of all the ability to telework. I cannot equate my experience in isolation with the actual danger and trauma that millions of others are experiencing. And so I won’t.