I had something very hard to do yesterday. Something I can't talk about here but that I waited months and years to do.
I had a lot to think about and one of the things I thought about most was what I was going to wear. I am not a woman with a huge closet full of clothes and twenty purses and five hundred pairs of Jimmy Choos. That's just not how I roll. Since my layoff, I got rid of the work clothes I never liked and the rest are getting dusty just hanging there.
This was an occasion that required professional dress and I found myself obsessing about it. It was easier than thinking about the thing itself. Pants or a skirt? Sweater or a jacket? Conservative and credible were the order of the day.
I spent several of my Big Red preschool afternoon breaks frantically shopping for just the right thing and ended up mostly wearing clothes I already owned (except a new white shirt), as seen in yesterday's photo of the day. I'm sure it did not matter and was not memorable to anyone but me.
I was comfortable and as confident as I could be under the circumstances. The clothes did their job.
This whole business got me thinking about this book, which I spent a light evening perusing some years ago. What's your "what I wore" story?