Lucinda, an ex-girlfriend of mine, always insisted upon wearing a paper bag over her head. She seemed to believe that her face was malformed and wretched, but I thought it was the most beautiful I had ever seen.
Many months were spent trying to convince her otherwise, but to no avail. Eventually noticing that her usual brown bag was becoming torn and rough at the edges, I resolved to find her a new one. I spent weeks trawling the high streets of the country, testing every paper bag I could find in order to find the one that she would love the most. But also to demonstrate that no matter what life she chose, I would always be there to support and love her.
A few weeks after I presented it to her she left me for another man, saying as she walked out the door: “You don’t love me for who I am anymore; you have become too obsessed with aesthetics.”