Chatelain

Don’t get me wrong. I love my neighbourhood. But - you were waiting for the “but”-part, weren’t you? So: But sometimes it’s just a bit too BCBG (Brussels’ expression for Bon Chique Bon Genre, in other words: posh).

- When spring arrives, the weekly market is not just a market anymore. It becomes an event to see and be seen. There are more stands were you can sip champagne or wine, and slurp an oyster or two, than there are actual fruit&vegetable stands. You don’t go there with your shopping basket – no, you go there with a stack of business cards, and network away.
- Even when you’re wearing your biggest sunglasses, you feel they’re rather smallish to moment you step outside.
- If your handbag doesn’t contain a tiny dog, you’re not one of the crowd either.
- And I could go on, but I guess the conversation of the two ladies sitting next to me on the terrace of the local bar, says it all.
Picture them, manicured, just the right tan, spotless hairdo, most expensive brands, not older than 25, sipping cocktails at lunch hour, and smoking away.

Chickie 1 : Oh, not possible! You’ve never been to Knokke (read: poshest seaside town of Belgium)?
Chickie 2 : Well, of course, I have, but only for business (uhm, business in Knokke? Not likely, but whatever).
Chickie 1 : Oooh, let’s go this Sunday!
Chickie 2 : Wait, then I have to call my personal tennis instructor. “Monsieur François? Can we re-schedule our lesson to Saturday? It’s because I’m going to Knokke on Sunday. Oh, you are so nice, merci beaucoup!”
Chickie 1 : Wait, I have a phone call. Ah, it’s my cleaning lady. “Oui Maria? You are ready? Okay, I’ll come and pay you. Can you wait 30 minutes? I’m still having a drink with my friend. See you in half an hour.”

This was after they had been discussing all the boys that were in love with them.
And why they were obviously French, but speaking in English the whole time, is simply beyond me.