GitaOgg

"Good day, Mrs. Ogg."

"Good day, Doctor."

"Do you know why you're here?"

"No."

"Your social environment is very concerned about you. Your relatives fear that you have some adjustment problems and are not quite up to standard."

"Oh?"

"Yes, look... i was told you leave the house one day in old chucks, shredded jeans, leather jacket and black nail polish and the next you go out in boots, a lace dress and cashmere coat."

"Yeah?"

"Mrs. Ogg, this doesn't add up! You should decide on a style, otherwise you never know which drawer you belong in. And that's not all! Your family thinks you're always a little extreme... Smokey eyes in the early morning only partially match your terribly messy bun on the head."

"Aha... and where exactly is my problem now?"

"Your problem? Mrs. Ogg, you are a business economist and - especially at your age - should not appear in Chucks or with Smokey Eyes in the company. That's completely out of place... The crowning glory, however, is your fragrance! What were you thinking? Couldn't decide whether you should have a warm vanilla perfume or a harsh citrus scent, could you? Frankincense and myrrh are also included, which are far too many corners and edges for everyday life - everything creaks and smokes. And first of all this sillage, they just can't get past you. Discreet restraint would be much more appropriate in your position... what the hell is that perfume anyway?"

"This is Shalimar."

"Shalimar? But Mrs. Ogg! You know there are three things a lady can NEVER do!"

"Yeah, I know that."

"Well then! Then I'm sure you know what I'm suggesting and what you need to change in the future, don't you?"

"I think so... i should learn to tango."