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At Gerstner’s, I wanted to eat one or two sandwiches just before the ceremony to stop possible discomfort or pangs during the procedure.
My aunt was already at Gerstner, called my metamorphosis well acceptable and uttered her famous “it’s not too bad”.
As for me, I had not worn a suit, even up to that moment I had always shown up only in trousers and sweater, and even if I went to the theater, if ever, only in slacks and sweater, especially wool pants and a gray sweater made from rough sheep wool in a bright red color that an American has given me while in a good mood immediately after the war.
In this outfit, I remember, I went to Venice a couple of times and among other things, I was also at the famous Teatro La Fenice for a performance of Tancredi in Monteverdi directed by Vittorio Gui, and in those same trousers and sweater I had been to Rome, Palermo, Taormina and Florence, and in almost all other European capitals, not to mention that I wore those clothes almost always at home: the more worn the trousers and sweater became, the more I grew fond of them; for years I was only seen around in those trousers and sweater and even today friends ask what happened to those trousers and sweater, those clothes I had worn for more than quarter of a century.
Suddenly, I want to repeat, on the Graben and a couple of hours before the Grillparzer award ceremony, I found those clothes that had been worn on my body for decades unsuitable for a celebration.
