When life gets crazy with sick Beans,* too little space for too many people, Big Important Projects at work, well, the last thing on my mind is clothes.
A long time ago, in a land far away called College, I subscribed to the idea of "dressing comfortably," especially after having been up all night cramming for exams - or talking with a new boyfriend all night (yes! just talking - we thought we were very enlightened). I'd wear my lucky wool socks, old holey jeans, and a sweatshirt.
Then I went to Germany, spent my junior year in Bremen, and along the way met a wonderful Italian man by the name of Luca. There's a lot more to the story than what I'll share here, but I will say that when we met, I was not in the best state of mind (never, ever date a British man - apologies to my British friends). I was very much in "comfortable clothes," both literally and emotionally.
Somehow, along the way, he managed to teach me that when I go out the door, I should be put together. He managed to pull the nicer clothes out of my teeny dorm room closet and get me to wear them. He managed to get me to realize that I am, in fact, a beautiful woman, and, well, maybe others might think so, too.
Many, many years later, I'm blessed with a husband who agrees.
But sometimes, like over the past few months, I just haven't been able to pull it together, style-wise. I have clothes in my closet I like, but I just don't even have time to put them together. I'd much rather focus on my Bean. It's a rare week when I get to blowdry my hair instead of going to sleep with it wet. Mornings I put on my make up and brush my hair at my desk. I just don't have the spirit to bother.
But with Fall here, I can pull out a couple of old standbys in which I always feel good. I waited until a week full of Big Meetings at work, when I know some of my Old Retired Colonels will compliment me in a way that's probably inappropriate. So out came the black merino cowl neck sweater and the Daslu boots, and paired them with a retro below-the-knee flared skirt for a little prim but not entirely proper flash. It was just too hot for the sweater, but I suffered for style. I brushed out my hair at my desk, and wore it down to choruses of "Your hair's different today." The boots elicited a couple of "Niiiice boots," and a couple of Old Guys trying to Be Good. Amusing, and appreciated, as wrong as it might be.
A girl's gotta use what she's got when she's got it.
*She's fine - it was just her first Big Cold. She survived just fine. We, however, are still recovering.