Monday, November 23, 2009

Monday, Monday



Today was a good day.

Well, except for the comments I received from all you crazy cats telling me how charming and sweet it is that my husband covertly stalks me with his Canon.

12 a.m., people. Ain't nothing charming about that hour.

I feel that the photo of my attire might benefit from further explanation... I discovered something today. It felt a little epiphanetic. (Is that a word??? I thought I was making it up, but it's not underlined in red! It's a word. The English language is so zany.)

So, I was pounding away on my laptop all morning - working. I was dressed to the nines in my grey sweats and green robe. I hate to play into that icky stereotype of work-from-homers, but for me, it holds true. I work mostly in my pjs. I know, it's gross. I know. But it eliminates the temptation of galavanting around town when I am supposed to be working. You do whatcha gotta do.

The time finally came to appropriately attire myself - I was in a rush. I chose the striped sweater because I felt sorry for it. I hadn't worn it in a couple of months and I do really like it. But it's a thin weave and come October, I'm concerned primarily with warmth. I grabbed a pinstriped button down for underneath. It was SO bunchy. It took me a good 8 minutes to smooth out the glitches. I hate the feeling of tight bunchiness. It's why I try my dangdest to avoid wearing a bulky winter coat. It's too restrictive. Too confining. Makes me feel trapped.

(Be honest, is this not the most intriguing and gripping parcel of my life's minutia I have ever dispensed of?)

Tick tock. It's 12:46. I should have left 2 minutes ago. Pre-school awaits.

I dashed out the door, hair akimbo, face all Pale Gail. But! I was wearing a real outfit. Flats, even. Problem was, it bored me to tears and I'm the Queen of All Things Boring!

Timely pre-school drop-off behind me, I raced back home for a bowl of leftover beef stew (bleh) before my final Nost Job appointment. And that's when it hit me - Put on the polka dotted belt. Oh, I put it on, alright. And it saved the ever-loving day.

This is my truth: I do not feel entirely Shannan if I am not wearing multiple patterns. It defines me. Give me flowers with stripes; plaid with dots. Give me 5 different kinds of stripes - I'll work it out.

I once wore a turquoise flowered skirt with a bright yellow rugby-striped sweater to church. I told my sister about it later and she confirmed that my church friends probably think something might be wrong with me.

But I'm telling you, this is my most important (and only) fashion tip. Mix it up, girls! Just try it.

And report back, as always.
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