I wake up to the sound of cars flashing by my window, and I forget where I am. I’ve never lived in a city before, and it’s taking a bit of getting used to
The sounds of late-night partiers and car alarms keep you up at night, and the smell isn’t always the nicest; however, it’s all worth it. The city is mesmerizing and magical, and the location is stellar with my school and La Sagrada Familia both in walking distance.
I spent three months living in Barcelona and made some of the most incredible memories of my life. It took a little getting used to, but I fell in love with Spain, and I am sure you will too if you decide to venture there. There are many new, enticing, and curious things about Spain that will leave you crying when it is time to board the plane home.
One of the simplest pieces of knowledge I found necessary to have while abroad in this country was their particular seriousness about attire. There are two clothing choices in Spain that will effectively and permanently label you, to put it bluntly, as a hooker. First and foremost, ladies, do not ever enter a bar, pub or “discoteca” in the color scheme red and black. This is a giant mistake and a huge death wish. Unless you wish to draw in every scummy man within a quarter mile, do not execute this style choice. My girlfriend Natalie went against this staple rule in Spain. By the end of the night, she had so many dirty 30-year-old men following and propositioning her that she almost decided to make a permanent career change. Red and black outfits will give you an everlasting name in the nightlife scene — one that you will wish you could hide from. So before you fly over the Atlantic, put away those garnet and black game day outfits!
The second law of Spanish attire I learned from first-hand experience. My new Spanish friend Raphael had warned us multiple times to never step foot out of the apartment without being all dolled up. At first, this was not a problem. We were new to the city and exhilarated to be there, so we primped every time we went anywhere. Once the first month went by, we started to fall back into our lazy ways. One day I could NOT stand it any longer. I was tired, homesick and hungover, and I was going to the grocery store in my yoga pants. I rushed to the store ignoring bystander’s stares; I entered the market and grabbed a cart. As I rounded the aisle corners, I noticed more and more eyes. The eyes felt like lasers burrowing through my body. I walked past some women and actually heard them whisper derogatory comments as I passed by. I was mortified and learned quickly not to repeat this offense.
In Spain, apparel is everything. They pride themselves on the metaphor “dress to impress.” No one in Spain would ever be caught dead in something that slightly resembles sweatpants, athletic shorts or anything you would wear to the gym. In Europe, no one even jogs on the street, so there is no excuse for being seen in this type of clothing. Imagine being seen in the Wal-Mart in your underwear. That is the equivalent of wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt in the streets of Barcelona.
Take my words of wisdom: If you make a decision to travel to Spain, make sure to put your best foot forward and get dressed up for that grocery store date!
