I've never been too good with clothes. There were times, here and there, where I thought I looked really cool, only to show up at First Ave. and feel like I just stepped off the tractor from the farm.
Now I'm going on my first trip to Europe. Not just Europe, France. Talk about your high clothes standards. I look at my current wardrobe and there's a hole left there by a crabby shopper. Me.
In the last twelve years, between two pregnancies and five cancer related surgeries, my wardrobe got the short end of the stick. And there were these two little people who kept growing out of things every six months. They sucked up all of my shopping energy.
While I was hanging out with some Mom girlfriends one weekend, we realized we'd forgotten how to shop for clothes. We'd been so busy taking care of everyone else that we had no clue where to buy something that might look good on us. Fortunately for me, my job was "behind the scenes" so I didn't really need anything but a clean pair of jeans and a shirt.
So I've been trying on a lot more clothes lately. And I'm realizing it's 99% attitude. The pair of jeans I thought looked horrible on me one day, sure look fantastic after last nights yoga class. So I've gotten a few new things, I'll be visiting the Free Tibet store for my third world hippie scarves, and I'll work the best accessory I have, a big dose of attitude.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Yep, a closet full of nothing to wear. How old do clothes need to be before they become nothing to wear? I suppose it depends on where your planning to wear them and how wise you where the day you bought them.
The French women are indeed beautiful and they all dress in BLACK! Colors, prints, paisley, and plaid are tourist logos!
One day I got up the nerve to go shopping in a small boutique. When I entered the store ("bonjour monsieur, mesdammes..." is obligatory), the owner looked me up and down. When he asked me "que talle?", I shrugged, not really seeing anything that looked my size. I noticed that the sizes in the store were only 1,2, and 3. Trying to estimate my size but still be polite he said, "trois". I picked out a 3 ...which unfortunately was no different from an American 3! Ouch! Slinking away, I remembered "au revoir
monsiur, mesdammes" (obligatory!)
Post a Comment