Winter has come... or has it? It's not exactly a snowy winter wonderland... instead it's like a sunny almost warm with a bitter wind desert. Well, we have had some rain so that is not all entirely true.
However, what IS true is that winter semester is my grunge season. Which is why I find it amazing that I was able to find a boy last winter AND keep him around all semester! It must've been my irresistible charm. (If my mom is reading this... I hope she remembers back to when I first made my blog and she said charming was NOT a word to describe me! ;) hahaha).
Back to William. Just kidding. Back to my inevitable season of the grunge. Which kinda sounds a lot like the scary movie the Grudge... and it does have some resemblance to that plot... just with less Asians, no creepy undead woman shows up in my bed and I am hardly Sarah Michelle Gellar.
It does involve waking up a lot of mornings and MENTALLY putting on a hoodie. But, usually my desire to look semi presentable kicks in and I end up wearing not just actual clothes, but heels or boots instead of my comfortable but, not quite weather appropriate Toms. (Which... if I have any independently wealthy readers out there who could spare some extra change for the Save a Sophia Fund... I need a new pair of those. Mine have 2 giant holes in which my toes stick out. I also want a pair of purple vans. But, I want the Toms for comfy shoes for Ecuador... see next post for more details.)
What I have come to expect as the norm is that the hood of my sweatshirt usually snags on the tail end of January and I'm stuck. I got all these new clothes from Christmas and I have worn them and impressed my bosses and friends with how stylish I am (when all credit really goes to my Mom!) and then my feet get tired of wearing high heeled shoes or low heeled boots and I wake up dreading getting dressed. Not every day by any means because I do love my clothes. Except that with my haircut I feel like an adolescent boy and don't know that I can wear certain styles anymore.. for fear that I look like a man or a lesbian. I think I am going to grow it out. The lady at Aveda gave me a very... "boyish" cut. And because I am too poor to attend a good salon (especially after Ecuador), I think it only best that I grow it out.
Back to that horror season I was telling you about... the Grunge. It is more of a mental grunge. And then I wear something that does in fact look cute and I like it. And I walk out the door with my head held high. And think... well, don't I look cute. That doesn't excuse the fact that for the first 30 minutes of that morning I struggled with thoughts between a cute cardigan and a pull over hoodie.
Today I rebelled. Today I broke records. Today... I wore a pink Oxford hoodie that my mom brought back from England to try and look both girly and cultured. But, that wasn't the real rebellion. I very RARELY if ever wore a tshirt (an actual t shirt) to high school, I think I wore sweats occasionally on exam day but, I NEVER EVER (owned? Except for sports) wore tennis shoes to school. Not once. I had rainbows, flip flops, sandals, ugg boots (2 different pairs), cowboy boots, and flats (which I rarely wear as well). But, I never slid on those tennis shoes and went to school. (Though I was guilty of the hoodie). Today, my boss told me "Not even on my very best day do I look half as good as you on your worst." A few weeks ago she said "You always look so nice." Just last week she said "that is a cute top where did you get it?" Another observation by boss "is your mom really well put together? I could tell from the way you dress."
I lost my train of thought. Basically... I never wear a hoodie to school. My reasoning? I can literally feel my cute clothes glaring at me through my closet doors, from the shelves in the hallway and peeking out from under my bed.
Today, along with that classy pink sweatshirt... I wore tennis shoes. WHAT?! And my feet love me for it. I know. I can hardly believe it either. But, I finally HAVE tennis shoes. And they are cute! And, I work out so they are one less thing to stuff in my bag.
To my fellow women of the world I say... wear those tennis shoes in public. Not everyday. And I probably won't wear them again except at the gym (or to and from or when playing sports). But, wear them. It's weirdly liberating. And with the chopping off of my hair... that seems to be what I am all about!
Spice things up by dressing things down. If I did it... so can you. Well, I guess the only way that is really applicable is if I say... MY MOM DID IT... so can you. So, for now... I'll work on her. And her pristine white tennis shoes that see the black rubber of the treadmill and the inside of her closet.
She's the greatest.
Walk on. (Did you see what I just did there?)
And by dress cute... I mean EXCLUDING dresses and skirts. Those are for Sunday only. Those are much too cold and uncomfortable to walk around in all day.
