Thanks Scarlet (we still want to hear what was attention-getting about your ensemble yesterday!), Babsie D, and Carrie, for reporting in on your envelope pushing this week. Glad to hear someone out there has been successful - I certaingly haven't!
Keep reporting in - gentlemen, you too!
Today's report of utter failure in envelope-pushing:
It was one of those mornings. And while I'm sure you're thinking, "Me, too, it's the rain," it's not. I happen to be one of those bizarre people who love the turn of summer into fall, and the fresh dampness of an early fall rain. Somehow, it washes away the grit and sweat of summer, and leaves me with just this crisp expectancy of bright autumnal light, just barely golden.
So anyway, it wasn't about the rain. I was having a hard time with the world this morning. H was being especially understanding and kind. When I finally did simper out of bed, he made me my breakfast, and even put my new Yoga Journal and Barney's fall campaign mag (have you read about Sophie yet?) by my plate.
But I digress.
I could have found some power in my closet. It works for me like that. Feel crappy, pick out great clothes, look good, feel good (not to swipe the American Cancer Society's program name).
But it didn't work that way this morning. This morning, all I felt when getting dressed was resignation. Resignation to a perfectly acceptable, presentable, but clearly resigned outfit. Rust silk patterned A.T. skirt (saving grace here is it's semi-mod pattern of Os, which reminds me of a favorite pair of brown & cream pants I had when I was about 2 years old). Side-ruched black knit sleeveless Banana shell. Nine West Katarras. And my I-feel-crap-but-need-a-mildly-cool-jacket black cotton Gap motorcycle jacket.
Thanks to andertho for his flickr photo - perfect sense of today, and any rainy day in Washington, D.C.