It’s the end of March, and my radiator is on.
This is the longest winter of my NYC life. While I like tights and scarves more than the average person, I’m ready to step outside without a coat.
I refuse to buy spring clothes, because 1) it’s not like I can wear them anyway, 2) I don’t really like warm weather clothing, and 3) I’m operating under this new mantra of “Less space, less stuff, more life.”
I totally lifted that last reason from an episode of Oprah I saw when I was really sick at the beginning of the year. It was the first and last time I ever watched the show - perhaps I’m missing all sorts of other gems.
Anyway, I’m glad I saw that episode and not the one about what one’s poop may be trying to communicate.
Basically, I haven’t been buying a lot in the way of clothes or material possessions. Not like I used to, which makes me sound like I was out of control. I wasn’t, but I wanted stuff.
It’s American to want stuff. That’s what Oprah said, and she would know. The woman could put a Girl Scout troop through orthodontics and college with the money she spends on eye cream.
So most of 2010 I’ve been trying to be more mindful of consumption, and part of that is making sure I wear everything I own. If something’s been in the back of a closet or drawer too long, I have to figure out why.
Did I forget I own it? Does it not look good on me? Does it remind me of a traumatic incident in my past involving bangs my mom cut herself, buck teeth, and a solo in the Christmas musical?
Last Thursday, I realized I’d never worn a pair of yellow tights I bought in 2009. You might think it has to do with some conscious or unconscious reservations I have about looking like Big Bird. (I know his legs are actually orange and pink. I’m taking about the feathers).
Nope. I just forgot about them.
Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?
The Jeffrey Campbell shoes have a kitten heel and ribbon laces. In my experience, people either love the shoes and say, “Those tights are…bright” while fumbling for their sunglasses, or they love both.
Because these tights make such a statement (or shriek or cluck, depending on whom you ask), everything else I wore was neutral.
Notice the denim skirt has pockets. Hooray for pockets!
Also, the silk scarf is black on one side and gray on the other. My dad bought it for me. He once explained that his favorite color is gray, because “there’s no such thing as turquoise gray.”
Ladies and gentlemen, please note that there is such a thing as light gray. Also, dark gray. Shall we call it midnight gray?
I wonder what my dad thinks about the tights.
Oh, and I can’t forget my other shout-out to Big Bird. I think I’m going to be one of those elderly women in feather earrings. They’re just so cool.
Except for that time one blew in my ear, and I screamed like a crazy person.
The coat I wore that day was purple, and thus, I matched.
Thanks, Sesame Street.
When I met Mike for lunch that day, I noticed he was also brightening up his wardrobe with a purple heathered tee. He rocked the Easter egg look.
We decided to take some pictures using the timer on my old digital camera. Besides looking like complete fools, we ran into some technical difficulties.
D is for Distance: Mike wasn’t standing far away enough to capture his entire stylish body. Trust that he has a head, and it looked good.
S is for Strangers: Less observant people were walking in front of the camera, but Mike and I were too shy to stop them.
At least the stranger’s bag coordinates with our outfits.
F is for Flash: I swear the camera is possessed, and trying to capture an album cover.
Mike and I sound like Vampire Weekend meets Salt-N-Pepa meets Cookie Monster.
