Inappropriate-Where?!? The Day After Post

My sister has always had this fabulous natural-but often enhanced- blond hair. She can wear white like only a bride can. It’s so inspiring.

Think:

So I try it and end up somewhere about here:

Within five minutes of slipping into something white, I’m usually back in black.

So I’m visiting my sister in her ocean view apartment when I realize, Where can white be more appropriate than at the beach? (I should note that it is NOT appropriate on bikinis. As we have all learned by now, the second they get wet, they are entirely see-through.)

Inspired by my sister’s even lighter and shiner blond hair, I put on a fabulous white top and a pair of high-waisted jeans and headed for a night out.

We walked to a local bar that happens to serve the most delicious margaritas-another rarity for me. I threw caution and routine into the cool, ocean wind that filled the second story, open bar and ordered a margarita right along with my sister who looked a little surprised. That was the first of somewhere between 5 and 7, and by the end of the night, I was feeling free and lighthearted in my white, flowing top. The wind blew the back slit open and made me feel like the Grecian Goddess I knew I was- yeah, that was probably a little Jose Cuervo too.

Before 9 p.m. I’d joined forces with the local entertainment and harmonized/mimicked/mimed/screamed/screwed up almost every song on the set list (including but not limited to, Beyonce’s Single Ladies, Backstreet Boys’ I Want it That Way and Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream– I never had a chance with a line up like that.)

I’ll admit-completely inappropriate, but while my behavior was- my top never let me down. It maintained its composure while I worked my way through dozens of Top 40 hits from today and yesterday.

Looking back on last night, I was definitely that girl. I got some looks and points and definitely some laughs. I stumbled home, still singing, with an F- in appropriate behavior but an A+ for appropriate wear.

Reborn, De-thorned. Let's try this again...

Things that lived in the dirt were generally invisible to me. I’m a city girl and hardly ever stop to smell the roses. Imagine my surprise when I moved into a new house that came with a large rose garden. Really? I’m supposed to keep those alive? (Dear Google, thank you for all of your help.)

I moved in, in the brown, dead winter. Again, imagine my surprise when my backyard started bursting with color this spring. The ugly brown bushes suddenly bloomed pink and purple Azaleas, the green, leafy tree turned blood red, dripping with Camellias, and a sad, gray tree bloomed perfect white flowers with perfect yellow centers. The best surprise was an unidentified tree (that I assumed dead) that miraculously sprouted giant green leaves. This significant discovery inspired a completely random and almost unexplainable action from me: yard work.

Me? Yard work? Hmmm. I started with a vine that was strangling the flowers. This prickly, nasty vine overwhelms the plants, choking off their colorful lives. I asked my man for a hand with one really stubborn weed, and then another strange thing happened. He didn’t stop.

Cut to 7 hours later- we were covered in dirt and hard work, but I was happy. We sweated those 7 hours out with a common cause: to kill ALL of those vines. We were united, and I should add that after a tumultuous year, it was perfectly what we needed.

Yard work? I know. I’m still shocked. Those 7 hours brought us closer than we’d been in a long time. We both showered and went out for Sushi. Even though my pallet usually stays somewhere between black to gray, I chose a bright green blouse from Urban Outfitters. Spring left its mark on me.

Spring is a lot like forgiveness. Things get bad, really bad. Flowers fall off bushes. Leaves evacuate trees. When all hope is lost, spring ushers in a reconciliation. The cycle is unending, and that gives me hope because every year those flowers come back, and there’s no shame in their return. I’m back, reborn, in green.

Airplanes, Airplanes...Oh America-n Apparel

So today was just one of those days. A great cup of coffee-extra cream, extra sugar- a great walk, a great vent and a great goal for the day: pick up the love of my life from the airport. It'd been over a month since I'd seen his face.

This outfit was a big choice. Obviously I wanted to make an impression. I went from a sexy mini to a pair of pinup girl shorts-it's Florida, we don't do a lot of pants wearing if we can help it!- but I ended up in a white American Apparel V-Neck and a pair of homemade cutoffs. I remember once, my man told me that's how he thought women looked their sexiest-what a life joy! When did comfort = sexy? I'm ashamed to say I have owned this V for almost 4 months. I grabbed it as I left Gainesville-along with almost $500.00 worth of tanks and T's. (Totally worth it.)

Today has been in the planning for over 30 days-hence the check marks on my calendar. I think the last two days taught me that life is easier when lived with spontaneity-at least a little. I actually counted seconds today. I think it was during that period I realized: Plans suck. I think it was during my airport pickup that I realized expectations suck. And dare I say this: People suck- at least A LOT of people suck. There was a lot of grown man drama at that airport, fortunately my AA V-Neck stayed out of it. Simple AND sweet.

In With The Old, Out With The New

DAY 2: Last minute invitations keep turning my could-be-blahs into blogs. As the evening rolled around, I thought I might skip the day when I got a call from my great aunt. She asked me to dinner, and even though I was already in pajamas, I forced myself to jump at the opportunity and catch up with an old friend. Because my great aunt always looks FABULOUS, I knew the only appropriate choice would be something simple. The Perfect Black Dress. I own it! Thank you to a garage sale-RANDOM- and $3. First time I ever wore it.

So as I'm sitting in front of my pan-seared scallops and half empty glass of Pinot Grigio, I realize, there's nothing new between the two of us, not even my dress. Our conversation fits just like my dress, flattering in all the right places and loose enough to to keep us talking. In with the old and out with new sounds better than ever.

While my lovely aunt is about 60 years my senior in body age, she is certainly 10 years my junior in energy. Is it strange to feel young and old at the same time? From sisters to great aunts, these two outfits are revealing a previous, unknown weakness in myself: I never said yes. I'm working on that. Thank you The Perfect Black Dress for dinner with a great friend and confidant that I may have otherwise missed out on.

Day One. Day Young. Forever...

Today I clipped off the tag of a skirt I'd yet to wear but had owned for over a year. (Insert shame here.) While thrusting through an overstuffed closet, I realized that getting dressed sort of implies leaving the house. That opportunity came with one phone call from my father in the form of a last minute invitation to my 8-year-old sister's art showing downtown at the Jacksonville Museum of Contemporary Art. Success.

Little girls in red skirts and pink bows were more intrigued by the tassels on my 1920's style skirt than their paintings on the walls. Little hands reached out to touch them as I twirled and then kissed my little sis on the top of her head and told her she'd be the next Georgia O'Keeffe. With that the not-yet-tweens buzzed around her with interest. I looked back to see her shy smile accept her new friendships.

Day 1, and I'm sure that a black skirt can swirl with colors, stand on its own as contemporary AND art, ignite friendships, get you out of the house and easily be worth every dollar you spent on it.

Thank you to Forever 21 for the flapper-inspired black skirt which I'm sure was no more than $30. You have been worn and loved. Thank you for keeping me forever young...even in the company of 8-year-olds.

Intro to Low Fashion

$68.12. I am $68.12 from being free, free from at least five credit card monthly payments. I'm sad to say goodbye, even a little unsure that I will say goodbye, but at the moment, it's a must. One too many occasions the "I have nothing to wear today" excuse will pop out of my mouth and land me in more credit card debt. (What landed me in this predicament is a story in itself and one to come later.)

So here I sit, looking through my overstuffed closet, finding things with the tags still on them and giving myself a virtual face slap. Enough is enough.

I challenge myself to wear each and every one of those pieces of clothes and make some unforgettable memories in them. The countdown is set, please bookmark me, and check back.

Join me. Watch me. Message me. If you like something, I'll tell you where to buy it. While I attempt to wear the "nothings in my closet" some interesting escapades may occur. If nothing else, perhaps life, love and fashion.