This skirt refuses to show its true colors.
It is GREEN. This is a closeup of my lap.
And this is my lovely fossil ammonite/turquoise necklace:
And this is what was underneath the jacket:
The jacket is new to me, Liz Claiborne via eBay. I have a new affection for snake/lizard all of a sudden. I would love some shoes in this pattern. They seem like an interesting take on a nude shoe.
Now, everybody liked this outfit, and I liked the concept, but I was very conscious of my pudgy waist all day long. My waist and my neck are where I show my age, I think. Plus I HATE pinchy nylons.
If you haven't seen it already, there is a fantastic article making the rounds about what fashion judgement means to the poor, especially men and women of color. As someone who routinely judges people by what they are wearing in interviews (and elsewhere), it gave me pause. The comments in both locations make for thoughtful reading as well.
This is how I found the article, at John Scalzi's blog:
http://whatever.scalzi.com/2013/10/30/why-i-wear-what-i-do/
and this is the original article.
http://tressiemc.com/2013/10/29/the-logic-of-stupid-poor-people/
I had something entirely different laid out for this morning, but it seemed too much "work", by which I mean it felt like I had to hold my stomach in all day. I was going to wear the yellow pencil skirt, a black and white long sleeved top and a yellow skinny belt. It looked good, no doubt, but it also felt, I don't know, sort of attention-drawing. I didn't feel up to that. Puzzling.
So I went to my closet and thought about Favorite Things.
I love this J. Crew striped shirt. They don't call it the Perfect Shirt for nothing. It's just the right length for my new (ahem) grey skirt. Then I thought about my red Boden boots, also beloved, and the rest was easy. Seriously, when I put this on I didn't even REMEMBER this picture. From, you know, five whole days ago.
Funnily enough, the Rotary "boys" (all in their 60s) made a big fuss over me and the red leather boots at lunch. I felt like a go-go dancer (young and blithe). So trying to avoid attention didn't exactly work out.
