Wednesday, May 23, 2007
I cannot dress myself. Well, to be honest, I do put a lot of serious thought and preliminary preparation into my daily pairings and I do a fairly decent job of coordination of separates/jewelry/flattering makeup but I veer wildly off course when it comes to complementing footwear. I don’t know what happens. It’s like my brain disengages when faced with shodding these distance appendages. And this from a gal who has a firm grip on what she is wearing to work three weeks from now! You may not believe this but as those close to me can attest, I have work clothes under fixed rotation in my walk-in closet and though considerable flexibility is allowed and last minute understudies may be called upon in a pinch, I pretty much know what I’ll be sporting throughout my workweek. (Is that sad or what?) Now normally I have less of a problem pairing skirts/dresses with shoes but once we hit warmer weather and boots are no longer a viable option, I am at a loss as to what footwear best enhance my slacks. Case in point is this morning. I have on a striped aqua and white blouse with ivory/bone(?) pants and though I love this particular pair they cause me more grief and stress than any others. What shoes do I wear with them? The low-heeled black sandals looked dumb, the similarly bone-colored, crisscross-strapped flat sandals looked even worse, and the newly purchased two-toned platform slides were too dressy. Then my sleepy eyes spied my extremely dorky khaki loafer monstrosities that most strongly bring to mind Duckie (you know, the scene where he walks down the hallway to the prom with Andie) from "Pretty in Pink," peeking out from my shoe basket wagging their tail, begging for attention and darn if I didn’t go with them. What was I thinking??? They complement nothing in my vast array of clothing choices, and though comfy, I need to muster up steely determination and send them hurtling into the trash bin. Tonight when I return home I will ensure I never make this colossal sartorial mistake again. *hangs head in mortifcation* But in the meantime I sit in my office looking dorky and foolish, hiding my embarrassed tootsies under the concealing desk. Please send the Shoe Fairy. Pronto.