I need some type of warning device that goes off whenever I begin to ask my husband this question:
"Does this look OK?"
Maybe a big red flashing light in my room or some sort of bracelet I could wear that would shock me when I look to him for fashion advice.
This morning as I was dressing for church I pulled on a pair of black cropped pants from last summer, a new sweater with 3/4 length sleeves and a pair of black patent flats. Hmmmm. I wasn't really sure it was working. But I was close to running late. The man was still in bed (yeah, his platform bed) and I handed him his glasses and uttered those fateful words, "Do these shoes work?"
"Yeah," he says. And it's always with this little lift in his voice -- like he's trying to be really helpful or something.
I'm such an idiot.
Actually, I don't think it was that bad. But about half way through the second service at church (I'm in the choir so usually end up in both services, for at least part of the service) my mind was wandering and I was eyeing the outfits on the 500 women out there in the congregation. I had already deeply examined the women in choir during sound check. I do not advice entering a church in the south unless you are feeling quite fine about your appearance 'cuz the southern girls? They can dress. My confidence in my outfit, or maybe I should say my reluctant decision to wear my outfit, was fading.
So I'm up there singing Palm Sunday type songs for the third time and I'm totally thinking about clothes. I know. I'm thinking about my stupid pants and that really I hated them all last summer and I think I had sworn to get rid of them. And then I had an epiphany, right there in church, up on stage, in front of 800 people.
Life is to short to wear stupid pants.
Why didn't I just get rid of them last year when I started hating them? Cuz they still fit? I mean, really, I'm not even sure I'm supposed to be wearing cropped pants. Isn't there some kind of age rule or something about them? I'm not good at this. I don't know. But I can tell you this -- I really hate those pants.
So I came home and threw them in the bag for Goodwill. Good riddance I say. Life is to short.
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17 comments:
If you didn't already have a kick-ass name for your blog, that would be a great one.
I'd never make it in the South. They'd kick me out inside of a week.
Life is too short to worry about stupid pants...or to worry stupidly about pants .. or to worry at all about pants. I really despise spending time worrying about fashion. I'm a conventional dresser, I try to fit in, try to keep up (barely) with trends, but it's such a time and money consuming affair, I sometimes with there was one of those unisex uniforms so I could just drop the entire subject from my mental palette.
oops, make that "I sometimes wish"
I agree with Jennifer H (maybe it should be your tagline)
Good for you! I think they must train girls differently in the South, too because I don't have their skills either.
I always wondered what the people in the choir thought about as they stood up there looking so pious. What other sorts of things go through your mind during the average Sunday service?
I am fortunate to live in the NW because frankly, I could wear just about anything and fit in somewhere.
Birkenstocks and knee highs and shorts? Sure, come on down SE Portland.
(I don't wear ^ that, but I could.)
I dumped some stupid pants recently. I should have broke up with them a long time ago.
i agree w/ your new mantra. can i add... life's too short to wear uncomfortable shoes, too?
I hate when I leave the house with the wrong cloths. If I'm not 100% comfortable with my cloths, it ruins whatever experience I'm embarking upon.
I'm all about the life is too short way of living.
And BTW, you are not too old to wear cropped pants. :)
ha! I recently uttered the same thing. I agree with Jennifer...if you ever need to start another blog.
I vote for it as a tag line too. I love it, and the story that goes with it.
that's right!! Good riddance!!
I'll probably end up buying them on my next trip to the Goodwill. Damn you.
May be your best blog post title, EVER. Forget that. Best blog post title of everyone! Miss you.
Oh, the South. That makes this 1000 times more scary. But I'm glad you got rid of the pants. But remember that before the next time you need something similar and tear your closet apart wondering where the hell they are!
When you find out the age requirement for them please share with the rest of us.
I wore a shirt the other day that I regretted as soon as I was in the car but went with it anyway, I'll be damned if I didn't have 6 people compliment me on it. Apparently I can not dress myself, LOL
That, my friend, is the best advice EVER!
See, I live in the south, and apart from the awareness that couples at church often match (both wearing yellow, or PEACH!! or whatever), I pay NO attention to how they dress. So if me and my jeans don't fit in, then it's just too bad. But thanks for the post, this southern dressing revelation will give me one more "thang" to obsess over. I really needed that.
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