Monday, March 7, 2011

On My "Style".


I was a fashion magazine fiend, back in the day.

I have always had a bit of a preoccupation with fashion.

And that includes my fourth year, when I took a shine to tucking my sweaters into my jeans.

If I know I will not be leaving the house at all, there is a good chance that I'll be found in sweats and old-lady socks. My hair will be in a ponytail. I will not dig into the make-up bag.

(Calvin once panicked when he saw me turn out for the day in jeans. "Mommy, where are you going???!")


Almost every night, I rock this look. Oh yeah, Baby. I rock it.

(Please notice the Lego sticker on my left clavicle.)

What I'm trying to say is, I'm no fashion plate.

But I think after 34 years, I've come to understand My Look.

For years, I liked to think that I was the quirky, patterned Anthro girl.

In reality, I am not.

I am jeans-and-t-shirt. I am one piece of jewelry at a time. I am flip flops and frazzled Payless boots. I'm almost never heels. Even on Date Night.

I'm on-sale and comfy.

I am short-sleeves-over-long, in a big way.

I'm a lotta-lotta gray.

I'm stripes in the morning.

Stripes in the noon-day (with crowns).

A hat when I'm even lazier than usual.

I'm denim with leather with wool with vintage with t-shirt.

I'm, "I've never tried this combination before!"

I'm a texture layer-er.

(This might be the only aspect of cold weather that I will miss.)

And as much as I love flowers, I'm just not very flowery.

I do, however, have an inner prep.

Toldja so.

I will never be voted Best Wardrobe or Most Creative.

I'm solids and stripes. Rinse and repeat.

And I'm ok with that.

What are you?
Inquiring fashionistas want to know.