This morning I decided to make an outfit around my new watch. WatchCo let me pick a watch of my choice, I haven't worn one in eons and have been wanting one, so I picked one of their Citizen watches. I Instagrammed my watch-filled arm party the other day but haven't yet featured it on the blog. So my hair was damp, I put in some beach waving stuff I never tried before, and decided to go up in the attic, grab some warm weather clothes and create an ensemble. Well actually, I decided I wanted to wear my white shirt with my Banana Republic red skirt. I know I said the white shirt was too big, but my body is bigger than it was last year so I thought it may work.
The shirt is a no-iron style but everything needs a bit of heat after being shoved in a Rubbermaid bin for a few months. So I got all steamy in the attic, then whipped out the iron which got me even more steamy. And Emerson's asking what I am doing, can she watch, can she try, can I teach her. And time is ticking, I need to leave for work. I'm hungry, I'm short on time, I'm sweaty and I just showered and I try on the shirt... and it still is too big. It looks too crisp, too much like I am wearing my husband's shirt. I try a black boatneck tee with elbow-length sleeves. Too severe of colors. I try a striped tee, felt too cliche. I try the white shirt with cropped pants and feel fat and frumpy. But this time my hair has started drying in crispy curls a la 1989 Alison. And Emerson wants Bunny Fruit Snacks. Please. Please. Please. Please. Pleasssssseeeeeee Mommy I NEEEEEEED BUNNNNNY FRUITTTTT SNACKKKKKKSSSSSSS!
So I told Emerson I needed a moment, if she could go into her room and pick out her outfit for the day. I calmly closed the door, locked it, and slammed a pillow a dozen times into the bed and screamed a bit into said pillow and stripped off all the clothes that made me hot and feel fat and laid down spread eagle on the bed and did some yoga breathing until I literally and figuratively calmed down. And then I just grabbed what was sitting on the cedar chest at the foot of the bed - jeans I wore this weekend, a tank that was just washed and not yet put away, a jacket I have been deciding whether to keep or not. Grabbed a barrette to hold back my mall bangs, put on enough makeup to not have coworkers ask if I was okay and moved on.
We all have those days. And while this outfit is NOT what I should be wearing to work, it's not awful. It makes me glad that I regularly purge my wardrobe of stained, stretched out, faded, and super duper unflattering clothes. Because we all have these days, these days where we say (pardon my French) FUCK IT and just put on clothes so you're not arrested for indecent exposure. And life's a lot better when those fuck it clothes doesn't make you even more miserable and stressed out.
Take care of yourself, and prepare for those fuck it moments. Get rid of the unflattering, the poor condition, the pieces that give you low self esteem. Slowly build up a wardrobe of loungewear that is flattering as well as comfortable, weekend clothes that you can wear outside your home and backyard. You'll thank yourself when the next time one of these days hits.
And this jacket? I guess it's a keeper!