Every morning, it’s a struggle. It’s always been a struggle, but now I have the added pressure of trying to meet all the fabulously dressed people at my job at least halfway. As I open my closet door, I’ll get flashbacks of an electric blue suede pump or a perfectly pleated boxy skirt or a sweet Hermes scarf looped around as a belt and the brilliant outfit I had planned the night before not only pales but completely deflates in comparison.
I used to be able to parade in sky-high shoes, but college completely weakened me. After flats came back in style and my butt puffed up enough for me to be able to wear jeans (stretch technology also made this possible), I took on a more casual look In high school, I dated a college guy who lived in Banana Republic, Zara and Kenneth Cole and had me dressing the same. As a teenager going to school in the Bronx, it seemed a little odd that I wore dress pants, cashmere sweaters and silk skirts. I was Gossip Girl in the age of Dawson’s Creek and it was totally weird. All that flew out of the schoolbus window when I attended college with Long Island girls who dicatated style as blonde highlights and Juicy Cotoure Velour suits.
I’ve also never been one to iro and fold, but this I must do as my fashion choices seem to be getting more high-end. On my measley salary, I can afford exactly…nothing, but I gotta make it work.
So, off I go to iron my color-blocked skirt and v-neck t-shirt. After having a 4-day weekend (I called in sick for the past two days, which I feel really guilty about. My excuse was that I would draft some pitches and finish the research for a few in-the-works articles, but I haven’t really succeeded much), I have to get back to teetering all day on shoes I bought only for display.