Saturday, 2 August 1873

After taking a bath I dressed and we went out (ecru dress). Dina, since arriving in Vienna, has been unbearable — with childish airs, vivacity, agitation, animation, little feminine mannerisms, poses, self-satisfaction. When with all these antics one is pretty, it passes; but if one is ugly, it is unbearable. She irritates me horribly.
We took a turn around the city, then back to the hotel because I had to change — it is too cool. I very much like this coolness, but one needs proper dresses; those from Nice are worthless. Entering the Prater avenue, they told us the Shah was to pass, but we looked in vain. At the Exposition (grey wool dress), my hair is very badly done — I washed it yesterday and today it will not hold. I am in a bad temper because of my dress and my hairstyle, and the grey sky makes me sad besides. My boots hurt, I am tired. I have seen almost nothing. We passed through England, America, and part of France — Lyon. The dresses are heavenly; the hats, the stockings, and the shoes too. That is how I shall dress. All of this is what I want for myself, for later. I am quite enchanted — how art can render even finery admirable.
I tolerate the French on the face of the globe only for their fashions. In that, they are the foremost in the world. I shall not say what pleased me most — it would take too long. I absolutely must have the very best in dress. I adore dress because it makes me pretty; in making me pretty, I please the one I love; and if he loves me, I am happy! And if I am happy, it is paradise. Therefore dress gives paradise on earth. I must be rich; otherwise it is not worth living.
Tomorrow, the races.