Outfit of the Day--Tuesday May 14, 2013

Seriously, there was a point tonight where I was quietly sitting and watching/listening to the world happening around me and my only response was, "Surely this isn't real life. Because it's SO STUPID it simply has to be the universe in some manner PUNKING THE HELL OUT OF ME."

I'm not kidding. When the portion of your day that includes being at the car dealership service center before 9 a.m. is, by far, not the most unpleasant interaction you have with humanity? Humanity as a whole needs to reassess.

And that's not all...I took a picture of myself and was like, "Well, I look incredibly chunky." Plus, I have this thing. And that thing has to do with matching. See, a few years ago, I was obsessed, and I mean seriously obsessed with watching How Do I Look? and What Not to Wear. To the point that I would Tivo them if I was gonna miss. Now my being enamored of the former was about 90% to do with my utter adoration of the incomparable Finola Hughes, who was the host at the time, because having other people pick out your stuff seemed pointless. I wanted the poorly dressed people to LEARN. Which is why, Finola aside, What Not to Wear was actually a more useful show. Because one of the mantras repeated by Stacy about a jillion times was, "It doesn't have to MATCH, it just has to GO." Which, I really loved. I think part of it had to do with spending the majority of my life with girls who took making everything (including, at times, their offspring) match their outfit. And I always thought it looked silly and "trying to hard." So, when I got dressed today and realized that, although I really love the color combo of lime and coral (which in various shades is very "on trend" right now), every single accessory (except my purse which is the same as yesterday because I am notoriously lazy about changing purses) was lime green. And I though that maybe I looked like one of those match-matchy girls I despised and if I had kids I would have them all dressed in lime green (because kids=accessories).

And then...well, someone, in real life, tells me that I look really good. VALIDATION. That doesn't change the fact that I wear this dress so very rarely because it took me almost an entire episode of The Golden Girls to iron it yesterday. But still...it's nice to know that someone thinks you look good (even if there's chance he was just being really sweet when he said it.)



Jacket: Gap (old); Dress: Anthropologie (old); Shoes: gift from Mom who got them at a boutique in Alabama; Necklace: Anthropologie (old and from the sale room); Earrings: which you can't see but should know are tiny little lime green squares from Target (old)

Outfit of the Day--Monday May 16, 2013

So the percentage of my existence where I'm cold hovers somewhere around three-quarters of my life. I'm always cold. Al. ways. I spend 12 months a year watching television under a throw. It's a heated throw, although I don't always plug it in a crank it up--that's usually only about five months out of the year. Which is why I can't trust myself to judge temperatures outside. I mean, I'll be out in jeans and a sweater when other (I would assume normal) people are in shorts and sleeveless shirts.

Which is why I wasn't sure about yesterday's temperature situation. I'm always out with Charlie at 7 or a bit before and then I was in and out of the house all day until the last time I took him out at about 10 last night. And I kept thinking, "It's getting colder." Only, like I said, I CANNOT be trusted, so it's entirely possible that the temperature was only experiencing a normal day's fluctuation and I'm just a big freak of nature. Until I got up this morning and realized that it really WAS colder. To the tune of 45 degrees when I left the house for the first time at about 8 and saw the outdoor temperature when I cranked the car. It's May. It's the MIDDLE of May. And I saw people who weren't me out in quilted jackets this afternoon.

This is a pain in my ass. For one thing, it makes me feel a general sort of malaise. But mostly because it's hard to dress appropriately. It's not that I don't have clothes that are appropriately warm. I do. I have lots of them. But it FINALLY has started to feel like something approaching actual spring around here and we devolve into a string of days where the HIGH is something like 61. That's just wrong. I have a whole rack of Lilly Pulitzer that's sitting there waiting to be worn. And it's starting to feel neglected and sad. Instead, I wore this (because it kinda, sorta made me feel like spring):



Shirt and Skirt: Target (this spring); Sweater: Ralph Lauren outlet (old, but they always have similar); Necklace: Lord & Taylor; Boots: DSW (really old); Bag: Vineyard Vines (old, but again--they are a VV staple).

That Vineyard Vines tote? Y'all it's the greatest thing I've ever seen, heard or read about. It's goes with EVERYTHING. No really. It does. If it's an outfit that absolutely cannot be worn with my Frye boots and that tote. Well, then I don't want to KNOW that outfit.

Acute WDW Withdrawal Syndrome

Here's the thing...I either have bronchitis/asthma/allergies or whooping cough or my body is physically reacting to being removed from the Greater Walt Disney World Area.

It's true. On my second to last full day there, I woke up with a sore throat. On the last full day, I started with a tickly kind of cough. Which has, in the week that I've been home, developed into an actual full-on cough. Now granted, clean as it is, WDW has to be like a culture of germs. I mean, there's kids EVERYWHERE touching everything--I once saw my niece LICK a handrail in a queue--and there's no way you can wash your hands every single time you touch something, because if you did, you'd never get to ride anything or watch anything because all you'd ever do is wash your hands. Also, on the night before I woke up with a sore throat, we spent an hour sitting in the pouring rain waiting for Fantasmic which turned out not to happen. And it was COLD. Not just that night, but except for the first day we were there, pretty much the whole time. I had to buy a hoodie the night we watched Illuminations (where it also rained). I mean, I'm educated enough to know that, no matter WHAT my paternal grandmother used to insist, you can't actually GET a cold/cough/fever/flu from BEING cold. Although I don't think that it helps the situation when you've already managed to slurp up all the various germs that must lurk all over the Magic Kingdom.

Anyway, if you happen to encounter me in real life, I'm taking all kinds of meds. I'm not attempting to infect the general populace. I actually FEEL fine. And really, I don't think that it's possible for someone to CATCH Disney Ennui. At least not from person to person contact.

Outfit of the Day--Mother's Day 2013

I think that there's a general consensus among a lot of my friends that when I chose to major in history and English, it was a mistake. Not because I didn't love both of those things and not because I wasn't smart in both of those things. It's just that they think (and I tend not to disagree with them) that I really should have majored in fashion design and merchandising. As to why I didn't....well, that's a hard one. Part of it has to do with who I was when I was a tween/teen. Although I was often drawn to unique and one of a kind outfits, I was WAY to concerned with fitting in to actually wear any such thing. Oh, I had the occasional unique ensemble, but mostly I steadfastly clung to the idea that fitting in--at least with regards to my clothes--was a far better plan than standing out. To the point that it never even occurred to me that there was a whole world, a whole CAREER, where the PURPOSE was to look cool and cutting edge and maybe even help others do so as well.

That all being said, on the few occasions when I wanted to wear something different than everyone else, the lady who facilitated it was my mom. Which is one of the reasons that Mother's Day and today's outfit are a perfect platform for a reboot of a daily clothing post. Because like so many gals, my biggest fashion influence is my mom. This is a lady who facilitated my desire for: tweed knickers when I was seven, painted hair ribbons when I was nine, an entire new wardrobe when I was ten and started at a new school (even thought she knew the things I was buying were NOT my style at all and just my attempt to look mid-80s "cool"), wearing Keds without laces when I was twelve and a Rush wardrobe that was so awesome I STILL wear a couple of the dresses 20 years later. She has an uncanny ability to walk into a store that is TEEMING with customers and walk straight to the sales rack and find the most unique and spectacular piece on it. She taught me how to shop consignment and even better, how to shop thrift. If you can't find it in a store, she can probably make it (or knows how to find someone who can). I wish I had access to all of the family photo albums so I could show you her awesome clothes from the 60s and 70s. Alas, you'll just have to take my word for it.

What I wore today involves my mom, a consignment shop, her uncanny ability to find awesome stuff and a hilarious story.

Here's the deal with consignment shopping: There are consignment shops where you can tell they are super-selective about what they take to sell. There are consignment shops that have some truly amazing pieces, mixed in with rack after rack of relatively non-descript things from stores like The Gap. There are consignment stores where the staff is lovely and friendly. And there are consignment stores where the staff acts snootier than those ladies that snub Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. The one where I got the dress I'm wearing today is on the super-selective side--but not the toniest I've ever been to--and DEFINITELY on the snooty side.

Last summer, my mom and I were shopping there and she pulled out the dress. It's colors I don't usually wear--tan and yellow--mixed with a color a love--purple--but would never think meshed together. However, it turned out to be absolutely precious and I got it. The story, though, isn't about that. It's about the signs. This store has signs up that admonish you that if you try on clothes in sizes that are too small and you rip them or break the zipper, you'll have to pay for them. I first want to clarify that the dress I tried on was NOT too small. It was a size 8. I wear a size 4. I just wanted to see if the color, which I'm not naming to protect the innocent (because I feel sure that a store clerk from an unnamed shop is going to figure it out and hunt me down where I live, which is something like 10 states away. Or something like that.), would work and if it did, would it be possible to take the dress in. As it turns out the color was fine, but my Fashion Advisor (read: Mother) said that taking it in would be a chore because of embroidery issues. So, I go to take it off. Now, know that side zipper on dresses are the bane of my life. They are fussy and persnickety and tend to get stuck at the waist. Which this one did. Only usually, I can either zip it all the way down and start over (if I'm putting it ON) or zip it back up to the top and ease it down (if I'm undressing). Not this zipper. It. Was. Stuck. I don't mean that fabric was caught in the teeth or that it was hanging on the seam between the bodice and the skirt. I mean that this zipper REFUSED to move in either direction at about an inch above the waist. Now, since it was two sizes too big, I could move it around my waist to work on it. Nothing. And even two sizes too big in the waist wouldn't go over my chest and shoulders (to say nothing of my hips). Worse still? It was about 105 degrees outside and when I asked for a dressing room, Snotty Shop Girl languidly informed me that the air-conditioning in that section kept freezing up and stopping so it was really hot back there. And she wasn't kidding. Maybe...MAYBE on a February day when I wasn't sticking to my own clothing, I could have inched it over my head. But this was just impossible. So I called for reinforcement. And after ten minutes of working with the zipper and trying to get it over my head, my mother was like, "Okay...were going to have to pop the zipper off the teeth." And of course I freak out, because I don't want to have to pay for the dress and you could just TELL that the girls working were the kind who would love to call someone chubby and make them pay--whether it was there fault or not. And my mom, who is AWESOME, said, "Don't be crazy. You're not paying for it. This is a cheap plastic zipper. The dress isn't too tight. I'm going to take the toggle off the teeth. You're going to take it off. I'm going to take it back and hang it up. You are going to pay for the things you're buying. And that's the end of it." I know...it's awful. I should feel bad. But here's the thing...whoever bought that dress was going to have to replace the zipper. It wasn't a good quality and it was going to get stuck. I just helped in letting them know that BEFORE they bought the dress and took it home. There...that is my horrible person confession of the day.

In other news...
Dress:consigned; Sweater:Target (2009); Purse: Marley Lilly; Shoes: Target (now).