I dress like a 90 year old woman.
No, really. On my first date with my boyfriend of three years, he made a quip about me suffocating him with my "Bill Cosby sweater." (And here I was thinking I looked snazzy.) When I was a kid, I used to circle turtlenecks and those shirts made out of the long underwear material in the JC Penny catalog. And then I wore them every day. One Christmas, I distinctly remember begging my mother for weeks for a pair of penny loafers.
(I'm going to let that soak in for a minute.)
In high school, I wasn't much better. I shopped at Goodwill. I chose things that made me laugh, and made others laugh. I didn't give a flying flip about what others thought. (And still don't, honestly, which isn't always necessarily a good thing.) I opted for outfits that were outlandish. Garish. And I still loved turtlenecks.
Nowadays, I resemble a librarian. The unsexy kind. I live in cableknit sweaters. Hugemongeous cardigans. Sweater-set cardigans. I layer them over camis. And over turtlenecks (obviously).
I love fashion. I really do. I like trendy clothes, and cool makeup, and funky styles. I follow fashion bloggers and drool over their outfits. I participated in pageants and have the 29 LBDs and 50+ other cocktail dresses to prove it. I wore false eyelashes. Rocked the five inch pumps. Know how to dress for every occasion. (And I'm honestly not making that up.) I own no less than 13 Antonio Melani Suits. But when it comes to picking up an outfit for my day-to-day non-career wear? I'm cheap. I hate spending money. And I hate cheap clothing. Which is a catch-22. You can't hate them both.
Which means I'll probably die wearing the same cardigan I almost suffocated my boyfriend with on our first date.
But at least I'll die warm.
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