Welcome to my personal style blog. My hope is that what you see from my closet inspires you to dig through yours to find new life in what you have and how you wear it. Of course what you have on doesn't define who you are, but it can make you feel better and sometimes all we need in order to do better, is to feel better. Friends often tease me by saying that I dress as if every day is a special occasion. To which I reply..."because it is".
So... I'm in New York City for a few days and I was so proud of the way I packed. One suitcase held 3 coats (2 being legit winter coats), all my clothes, an extra purse, a hairdryer (because hotel hair dryers suck), a flat iron (because my hair sucks), all of my toiletries and my make-up. I threw all of my shoes into a small carry-on and I was good to go. I brought a pair of sneakers for walking, flat brown riding boots, a pair of kick-a$$ heels for the evening festivities, and the boots I wore on the plane (a flat, black, all-purpose boot). That may seem like a lot of shoes for 4 days, but I hate packing, and I really not having choices when I travel, so I tend to over pack. I mean, I am not back packing through Europe carrying my wares on my shoulders. Fashion before practicality. I was all set. All set that is until we get to the airport, are unloading the car and I look around to find that my small shoe suitcase never made it into the trunk. WHAAAAAAT? I was immediately in a bad mood (my boyfriend calls it "flammable"). I was flammable indeed and I blamed him. He is the one who brought the suitcases downstairs AND loaded the car up. So, naturally it was his fault. It wasn't mine. I mean, it was my suitcase, and I am a grown @$$ woman capable of keeping track of her things, and he DID help me out by bringing all of my stuff (and his) downstairs; but in that moment, none of that was enough. I was peeved. Like a kid. Huffy and puffy and a downright brat about it. I am not proud, it was definitely not one of my cooler moments. He tried to get me to look at the bright side..."Babe, you'll just have to go shoe shopping in NYC, that doesn't suck". But, I could not be brought over from the dark side. I was all like, " Yeah, but I had everything I needed all planned out and I don't want to have to spend money on shoes" (insert foot stomp and an unattractive furrowed brow). Anyway... long story short, I am a moron. It took me (and my boyfriend's sister) a few hours, but we managed to shop our way through Times Square and find replacements for everything I had left. I could have gotten away with just buying a pair of heels for the evening(s), but let's be honest, that ain't happening. So... this is what I ended up with. Killer heels, classic riding boots (that I got for a STEAL), and some 80's throwback platform high tops. Mission accomplished, and I am no longer acting like a spoiled brat with first world problems. And in other news, my boyfriend is being nominated for Sainthood.