Guess who’s learning how to use polls in a blog post?
To keep your mind off Miley Cyrus and the disgusting twerking phenomenon, I offer you something light.
I’m your Redi-Whip in a can. You can consume this post with a spoon, or squirt it directly into your mouth. Sweet and refreshing.
Again, we are talking about fashion. Do I hear moaning?? Leave now, if you can’t stomach another fashion post. But I could use your help.
I found this Cache dress when taking my fearless clothing inventory. As per usual, the dress was sadly living in the black, moldy recesses of my closet. I’m sure it was purchased on sale and I never found the right accessories to pair with it. Because of my inventory, I rescued it yesterday and wore it to two highly important functions.
Now my brain is wondering……..‘Is there a way to take this basic black-and-white striped number and deck it out for Fall?’ Do you ever ask yourself questions like that?
I didn’t think so.
Will you take my poll. Please?! I have my top two faves, but I’d really like to know what the Poultry Nation thinks of these stylings.
Hello ***blowing microphone*** Anybody out there?Do it.
Choose your favorite summer into fallstyling of this dress.
1. The cropped red Jacket.
2. Black cashmere sweater.
3. The jean jacket.
4. Orange belted blazer.
5. Black military blazer.
I’ll let you know the results and which were my top picks by the end of the week. Thanks for voting and eating whipped cream with me.
Remember my fearless closet inventory? The shopping in my closet and taking pictures of outfits? How this compulsive activity was akin to six months of psychotherapy and I could spot certain trends and patterns in my personality through my choices in clothing?
Whew…..I need medication.
The closet inventory revealed a mystery missing piece. A piece able to impart a certain hip agrarianism, a je ne sais quoi attitude and a deep river of coolness.
Wanna take a guess what I needed to make my sartorial life blessedly complete??
Did you guess a bustier?? Wrong, poultry-breath! It’s ajean jacket!!
Jean jackets mean never having to say you’re sorry. A jean jacket is timeless and mixes with everything. Looks like you’ve just taken a long, satisfying drag from a Marlboro.
Here’s a dress I discovered in the dark recesses of my closet. I’ve had it probably 2 or 3 years and I’ve never worn it. Still has the price tag on it. It’s a Michael Kors dress. I spotted it at my fave outlet store (Saks Off Fifth) in Castle Rock, Colorado. How could I possibly resist a designer dress at such a drastically reduced price??
Not sure WHERE I thought I’d wear this spicy, habanero number. I can hear you shouting in unison…..’a Christmas party!’ I’ve never worn it…..maybe it’s too red, too gold, too shiny or too sleeveless-y. Fits great, though.
Look how the attitude changes when a jean jacket and casual belt are added.
A sublime blend of yin and yang, shiny and rough, fancy and plain, lollipops and cigarettes, Mary Poppins and Steve McQueen. This outfit gets my stamp of approval and I’m gonna wear it!
The jean jacket goes with everything. Pair it with pants, skirts and dresses.
I can hear you gasping, ‘Does she wear bright blue glittery flowers on her hips in public?’ Guilty. Fashion rules are made to be broken, dah-ling!
Now, grab your jean jacket and start shoppin’ your closet. Maybe you’ll discover your inner Steve McQueen.
Texan, will you please get my bike out of the attic?
Seems my girl Sprout will go to ANY lengths to leave her toddler and infant home with the hubby on a gorgeous Saturday morning. She’s just barely birthed a baby and now she wants to do a triathlon. If she can do it, why can’t I?
I’ll tell you why. I’m no longer 30 years old. Oh, I exercise….swimming (slowly) almost every day, spin classes several times a week and a little weight lifting. I enjoy being active. But lately, it’s been tough because of my unwanted house guest.
Arthur painfully takes residence in my hands, elbows, hips and feet. Stiffness, throbs, creaks and rust inhabit my body. A daily martini of OTC pain relievers with a double olive of joint lubricants keep me moving. Damned Arthur.
My girl Sprout is strong, sturdy and athletically-built. I’m a waif and don’t possess a single fiber of fast-twitch muscle. Meet the original tortoise.
Getting up at 5 am on Saturday is fun. We met up in the dark parking lot and unloaded our bikes and other gear.
Noticed a sad friend on the pavement.
A contestant from the last tri? I took it as an omen.
We organized our transition area with our gear and headed for the pool.
The swim was in the pool….easy-peasy. Yes, I entered the pool from the big, red slide. The water level lowered noticeably after splash-down, as I swallowed most of it. Right before I made my way down the party slide, the Sprout cheerfully chirped,
Hey Mom, you’re the oldest person here!
Being calm and deliberate facilitates efficient swimming. It took a full lap to get my hyperventilating-self under control. Almost quit, but pulled myself up the finish ladder alive.
Made it to the transition area to get ready to bike. Nerd alert….put my visor on under my helmet. Wasn’t thinking straight. Wore my arm brace. If I fell, I was not going to re-break my left arm. Sped off like the wicked witch of the west.
Enter transition area (very carefully), dismount bike, take off helmet and get ready to run! Whoop!
However, something very sinister happened while I was on the bike. Someone replaced each leg with a hot strand of spaghetti. Giant cinder-blocks where my typically nimble feet had been. The next 3.1 miles were a clunking hot mess.
Started out walking/limping as fast as I could. Then the self-talk kicked in.
Hey Kathy. Look at that tree up there. You can smoothly jog to that tree, can’t you? Anyone could jog to THAT tree! Do it!
That’s how I drug my hot pasta legs and cement feet around the run course. There was no one behind me.
The Sprout did great. She’s totally amazing. A champ.
Have I mentioned the difficult bathroom choices one must make when trying to be super-fast during a triathlon?
It was great fun and a happy way to spend a Saturday with friends. I kicked Arthur in the face! There may be lots of BINGO in my future, but not this day. Take that, Arthur!
Did I mention I was last? Should that matter? I was the only female in my age division. Isn’t it all about the journey, not the destination? The nobleness of the effort?
Obsession. Compulsion. Iz haz it. Need proof? I remind you of theDONUT TOWERincident.
I’m going to confess something startling and crazy. Please be kind.
I just went shopping in my closet and photographed the outfits I put together. Thought this would solve the repetitive complaint, ‘I don’t have ANYTHING to wear!’
This was not a-couple-of-hours task. Ask the Texan. My sunroom was covered under mountains of clothing for days.
It’s like I just completed 6 months of therapy. Took a fearless clothing inventory. Discovered some of my sartorial personality traits.
If you, fellow Chicken-Winger, had questioned me about my personal style, I would’ve responded with terms like classic and subdued. Lots of black and cream.
I delude myself. Behold.
Is this chartreuse? Tell me…..
In my defense, this peplum-number fits like a dream. Still haven’t found the perfect occasion for this dress…..yet.
Meeting of National Coalition of Color-Blind Persons (NCCBP)? Perhaps.
I’ve got it…..Texan, let’s go to VEGAS!
I have an abundance of information to impart….. like how I have bravely embraced ‘man-clothes’ and oxford shoes. The absolute necessity of having the perfect shrug to cover those saggy upper arms. How I have prepared for clothing Armageddon by stuffing my closet with a dozen variations of the little black dress. Thats LBD,to us fashionistas.
I’m armed with photographs, and I love over-sharing.
This post was going to be a tome, so I simplified and it will be a series. Want to keep you on the edge of your closet chairs!
Take a peek into one soul-satisfying result of my foray into shopping my closet. Feel free to tell me what you think and join in the wacky fun. Do you have an item in your closet you love, but you never wear it? You can’t find a THING to go with it? Me, too. Before I took certain steps.
I found a preppy sweater (from Talbots) I never wear. I like this sweater because it shouts,
‘I may be at this meeting, but I have important work later at the golf course. Let’s get on with it!’Perfect.
The ankle jeans are fun….but the light color makes them a little difficult to mix/match.
Can I give this ensem-bleh a little more weight?
More weight, still?
Is there a way to take this spring/summer outfit into Fall??
Bam! The addition of my favorite gray, menswear-inspired jacket completes the meeting/office/golf course look.
The addition of ……what? Black flats. short black boots to finish it off? You tell me.
Don’t say spiky heels or pointy, pointy flats. Ain’t nobody got time for that. My gout-toe shouts ‘Enough!’
Know what’s amusing about this clothing-organization compulsion?
I’m in workout or yoga gear all day, every day. Who am I foolin’ by pretending I have somewhere important to go?