Making an Effort

Reading pastry chef David Lebovitz' blog brings me great pleasure. He lives in Paris and writes with humor and affection about this dazzling, puzzling, beautiful, food-loving city. In his book, The Sweet Life in Paris, he describes how he came to live in France and what life was like for him as a newcomer. I love what he says about the time he knew he had become a Parisian:

"I was spending a lazy Sunday in my apartment lounging around in faded sweatpants and a loose, tattered sweatshirt, my ideal outfit for doing nothing in particular. By late afternoon, I'd finally mustered the energy to take the elevator downstairs to the inner courtyard of my apartment building to empty the garbage.
With the elevator door exactly three steps from my front door and the garbage room just five steps from the elevator landing at the bottom, the trip involves basically four movements. . .
The whole process should take maybe forty-five seconds.
So I extracted myself from the sofa, shaved, changed into a pair of real pants, tucked in a clean wrinkle-free shirt, and slipped on a pair of shoes and socks before heading toward the door with my little plastic sac for the poubelle.
God forbid I should run into someone from my building while wearing my Sunday worst."

To me, making an effort to dress presentably means you respect yourself and those around you.