Dylan I'm not, but still, it's true.
Over the last few years, the Infintessimal Readership has watched my life change, well, considerably. From my super-DC nupitals (ceremony next door to the Naval Observatory, reception at local watering hole with history, Chef Geoff's, née Quigley's) to Beans One and Two, I've shared the way I've had to display my style differently. We all have changing bodies, changing lives, changing jobs, and need to adjust our wardrobes to work for where ever we are right now.
As Bean One - aka, the 3-year-old Diva - grew, I managed to share. But then as Bean Two showed up, somehow, it got harder. Sure, it was easier with one, and now there were two, but I thought I'd be able to manage.
What this slacker posting has made me do, though - I'm always thinking of good posts, and as you know, going out to you to get input, so the intent is there - is to reexamine why I'm doing this. And to reexamine whether I'm still that stylish gal - that wannabe It Girl - who can answer your questions and share my fantastic style and foibles.
Generally, the answer is yes. So my body's changed and I have a little less time to pour over mags and the internet in search of Good Style. But a couple of interesting things have happened.
We Style Bloggers are known to wait by mailboxes with baited breath for the Next Issue. Miss Spinach and Belle, for example, are always sharing their inspiration from the latest pages. I, on the other hand, despite having some forced reading time when Bean One is in preschool and Bean Two is asleep in the stroller, stand in front of the CVS magazine stand (an actual subscription to something is way too much commitment for me) and just, well, feel uninspired. When I do manage to pick up a Vogue or Marie Claire, I'm left cold. I'm not sure if it's that I don't feel the creations inside aren't relevant to my life - that's not really the point of fashion, now, is it - or if fashion has taken a dive in creativity. I got the same feeling when I wandered through Pentagon City the other day. Nothing on the racks was even remotely interesting - not Michael Kors' mid-tier safari shirts nor my standby cocktail dress place, BCBG (no one takes the runways down to real life better, I think) made me want to try anything on, let alone plop down my card.
So what does make me want to plop down my card? What does get me excited now? Eeek. Two things: Duds for the Beans (though why I'd ever feel the need to buy anything for them, as they get more gifted clothing than anyone could ever wear), and Household Items.
The first we'll take - very loosely - as an extension of my own style, a way to help my children develop their own comfort levels and personal style (yes, they're 3 and 5.5 months, but hey, it's never too early, right?). The second? Not so much. I suppose we could stretch it to say that I'm styling my home. But that would be a massive stretch. We're not talking throw pillows and paint there. We're talking kitchen gadgets, food, and organization stuff. Right now, I'm more comfortable walking into The Container Store and Williams-Sonoma than even a Very Safe Ann Taylor Loft (though I must say, there's some very cute stuff there at the moment).
Folks, I'm trying. I'm somehow scared to buy anything new - clothing, that is - and not for lack of need. I'm perpetually unhappy with my closet contents - just ask H in the morning before work. I've got $100 to spend at DSW - and beloved shoes that are going to go to Shoe Heaven soon. I've documented some of my recent, boring, "staple" purchases. I'll get out there soon. Really.