This is a guest post by Linda Smolkin.  Follow her on Twitter @WhateverGirlDC

Several years ago, I spent nine months teaching English in Russia. Due to airline regulations, I could only bring two suitcases, unless I wanted to pay an extra charge. So, I had to choose my outerwear carefully since it would take up a lot of luggage space. For winter, I packed my warm wool coat. For fall, I packed my favorite lightweight jacket — a bright red one with a three-toggle closure.

One brisk September morning, I decided to wear my red jacket for the first time. I was in a hurry to meet a friend and ran out to catch the trolleybus. I boarded, punched my ticket, and walked to the back. It was packed, as usual. As I held on to one of the bars, I noticed a short, stocky babushka looking at my jacket. Then, she began talking to me. Since I had been in St. Petersburg for only a few weeks, I had difficulty understanding her. She mentioned something about my jacket and pointed at it. I understood two words – jacket and open. After looking down, I realized that part of the jacket stays open even after fastening the toggles – that’s part of the style. I looked back and said “Thank you, I know.”

After I responded, she looked away and began talking to the woman next to her, as they both looked at my jacket. A few other commuters smiled and looked my way.

It didn’t take long to feel like the bus fashion plate. I knew my jacket was stylish, but I never thought I would get so much attention. As I walked down the aisle to exit, I felt like a runway model – minus the long legs and rock-star boyfriend. But then, I stepped down to the sidewalk and let out a laugh.

“Boy, I really need to improve my Russian!” I said to myself. The right side of my jacket was three inches higher than the left, the bottom right toggle was fastened to the middle left loop, and the sweet Russian lady was just trying to tell me I had closed my jacket incorrectly. I immediately fixed my jacket and laughed about it throughout the day. I had become a fashion victim on a trolleybus in Russia, and the strongest force against me was the language barrier.

This was a guest post by Linda Smolkin. Follow her on Twitter @WhateverGirlDC

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