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Posts from the ‘clothes’ Category

ways to wear: boyfriend jeans

A few years ago, some fashion people got together and decided to produce and sell women’s jeans that looked like men’s jeans.  And it’s a smart concept, because who doesn’t have fond memories of the “vintage” 501s they wore in high school?  Mine had Phish patches, and I knew like one Phish song.

But for me, the execution of boyfriend jeans by the denim companies has been awkward.  To begin with, the sizing is usually wack.  Secondly, the leg is always too big–I want to look slouchy, not messy.  Thirdly, most pairs either just look like really baggy women’s jeans, or like you actually borrowed your boyfriend’s jeans, except your boyfriend is Bob Vila, and he wears terrible jeans.

This spring, boyfriend jeans are once again calling to me.  And probably out of desperation, I had an epiphany.  Why not skip the middleman and just go straight to men’s jeans?  I knew what I wanted: a higher rise, loose at the middle, with a dropped crotch and a slim, straight leg for rolling.  And I found the perfect men’s jeans, at Diesel, natch.  Diesel even has a name for that exact silhouette: the “Carrot.”  Not kidding.  Google it.

Don’t try to buy men’s jeans in the size you’d buy your usual jeans in, thinking since they’re made for guys, they must already be oversized.  I’m going to save you a lot of anxiety and stress by assuring you that they are making jeans for some really skinny men these days.  I went up two sizes to get the fit I wanted.

They are not for everyone.  But I don’t know anything, fashion-wise, that will work for everyone.  If you’re on the fence, give them a shot, because as the photos below demonstrate, they’re versatile as all-get-out.

Some ideas for how to wear your boyfriend jeans…and a Pinterest board with a few pairs designed for the ladies.

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stuff i like: gap pure tank

I have written before about my struggles with my midsection. It’s not big but it is proportionately bigger than the rest of me. In any event, what my disproportionate middle has made me, over the years, is a master at layering. Not to brag, but I’m so skilled at layering to conceal that I could have a goat under my shirt and you’d never know.

For layering, you need a grip of tanks. But not just any tank. It’s gotta be long enough to cover the top of the skinny jeans. Loose enough to drape nicely over the chest, without getting caught on the belly. Slim enough to flatter. The neckline has to be a low enough to show the collarbone and some decolletage. The armholes have to be generous enough to give it that offhanded mens’ tank feel, but not so generous that you are showing sideboob. With white, things get even trickier, because sometimes you can get an otherwise-ideal tank that happens to be the wrong shade of white. You notice the problem in the store, but you ignore it, buy it, and hope for the best. And then, you don’t wear it. It sounds crazy, but if it’s happened to you, you know I speak truth.

So difficult is it to find a perfect tank that my otherwise rational friends will pay more than $100 bucks in the pursuit. I get it. I do. The perfect tank is a workhorse, and you’ll wear it every day. But it’s so much better when you can get something great for cheap. Which is where the Gap comes in.

the haggard late-night iphone blog photo in all its glory. but at least my cactus bloomed

At lunch today, my friend Mo started talking about the Gap, and before she could finish her sentence, I knew exactly where she was going. The Gap has launched a new line called Pure, and it is essentially a capsule collection of t-shirts, tanks, and long sleeve tops in a limited range of colors. Imagine Vince and James Perse, at 1/4 the price. The racerback tank I’m wearing above is as close to tank perfection as I have been in a very long time. The neck is deep, the length is long, and it has a fishtail hem, which I appreciate because it gives me more butt coverage while keeping things neat in front. It’s 100% rayon and skims the body with perfect drape, but does not cling. It’s got a couple interesting details, like the bound hems on the neck and armholes. Forget all that though, because there’s this: I washed and tumble dried it and it did not shrink. DID NOT SHRINK. The holy grail.

It’s $24. What are you waiting for?

*Check me out on Pinterest for more perfect tanks

my kid’s ugly clothes

When I was pregnant with my first, I self-righteously informed Tom that I considered dressing to be a form of self-expression, and that I’d let my kid dress however he wanted, in order to help foster a sense of self-confidence.  Of course, when I said that, I had no idea that my kid would have bad taste.

That’s right, I’m judging my own kid for his lack of fashion sense.  I guess I assumed that, at worst, my kid would put together some colorful yet whimsical outfits, kind of like the one below, from two years ago.  Crocs + socks aside, I really wish I had this outfit in my size even though the shirt features a cat and I hate cats.  The ‘stache is all Finn, because he is physically incapable of drinking an Izze without sucking his upper lip into the bottle and forming a moustache made of broken capillaries.  The Izze ‘stache always lasts way longer than you think it will, is impossible to cover up with concealer, and usually makes an appearance right before Picture Day.

Anyway, I was prepared for crazy kid color.  What I was not prepared for was a five-year old who gravitates towards neutrals.  Left to his own devices, Finn now prefers monochromatic outfits in dung brown or dark gray, which usually leaves him looking like the world’s smallest UPS delivery person.

fashion weeps

My hatred for the outfit above is particularly intense.  Finn’s worn that shirt maybe 300 times, and only twice has he NOT worn it backwards.  As for the pants, I’d burn them if I thought Old Navy Performance Fleece was a material capable of being burned.  I don’t know what it’s made out of, but I’m certain that the only things that will survive the coming apocalypse are Old Navy Performance Fleece and cockroaches.

Even more paining to me than his penchant for drab neutrals is the fact that Finn has no natural sense of proportion.  He loves baggy sweatshirts and jerseys that are unflattering to his figure.  While he loves to go big on top, he prefers to go two sizes too small on bottom.

thanks dad for the dart gun--a solid montessori purchase

I’m hoping that he didn’t pick up the cropped pants from me, because if he did, his execution is really shoddy.  Surely, if I’ve taught him anything in life, it is that you never wear cropped pants with tube socks.  The outfit above is also a good example of Finn’s misplaced focus on “matching.”  To Finn’s way of thinking, why wear a blue shirt, when you can wear a blue shirt with blue pants and blue shoes?  Why indeed.  When he first came downstairs in this outfit, I crammed my fist into my mouth and bit down on my knuckles to stifle the scream of pure terror.

If you are wondering why I care what my kid’s clothes look like, join the club.  I don’t know why I care.  Probably it’s because kids, like handbags, have become an extension of one’s personal style.  I have stylish friends with kids so well-dressed that I want to date them.  But let’s be real, most kids look pretty cute no matter what they are wearing.  And no matter how much my kid’s clothes bug me, I don’t want to end up being the mom who’s picking out clothes for her 17-year old.  So here’s me, letting Finn be Finn, and trying to take Yoona out of the equation.

ways to wear: cheap dresses

In Portland, March ushers in the auction season.  Auctions happen in the evening like lots of other parties, but they bring a set of challenges that don’t come along with other types of parties.  First, an auction is essentially a quasi-work event.  I usually end up chatting with work contacts and potential referral sources.  For me, this means that strapless, backless, micro-mini, and plunging v-neck are all out.  Second, I need something that I can sit in comfortably for a couple hours, that will also allow me the freedom of movement to wrestle my husband’s arm down to the ground when he has a couple scotches and tries to bid on something like a rafting trip for two.  Third, whatever I wear has to be cheap.  Cheap cheap cheap.  I don’t believe in spending wads of cash on an outfit I am likely to wear twice.

This year I need outfits for four auctions, and Tom has me on a budget that indicates that he expects me to make my own clothing from kitchen towels.  So I turned to ASOS.  I’ve written about ASOS before.  It’s a UK company that recently launched a US site.  The clothes are not super cheap, but the thing is, everything on the website goes on sale eventually.  The site sells clothes from other designers, but do what I do, and narrow your search to the house label.

For parties and weddings, you can do no better than ASOS.  Their clothes are well constructed and do not look cheap.  I mean it.  I wear a lot of Forever 21 but I don’t like people to stand too close to me when I do, because the stuff doesn’t exactly scream quality from close range.  Quality-wise, I’d say ASOS is on par with BCBG, and it’s a lot cheaper.  Let me digress for a moment to express how much I hate BCBG clothing.  No matter what the item is, there is always some extraneous design detail that makes absolutely no sense, and nothing ever fits right.  There is a reason they don’t let you return stuff at BCBG.  They don’t want that sh*t back.

Other important details about ASOS: free shipping, both ways.  No minimum purchase.  I have returned so much stuff to ASOS that I’m getting concerned they will cut me off.  Also, their selection is completely overwhelming.  To find the three dresses in this post, I had to click through more than 2000 ASOS dresses.  But if you know what you are looking for (e.g. “maxi dress”), their search engine actually works, so use it.  Lastly, you may be alarmed that some of the clothes look like party wear for strippers.  Do not be discouraged.  There are gems to be found, and strippers need party clothes too.

Check me out on Pinterest for more ideas for inexpensive party wear.

Sometimes you want to dress to flatter your figure, and sometimes you just want to wear a fun dress.  I wore this to an auction two nights ago and it was perfect for a winter night.  The bodice is 100% wool and the skirt is fake fur.  I bought the shoes three years ago, but felt weird about wearing shoes that cost the equivalent of two Chipotle burritos, and gave them to my best friend.  And then I decided that I really liked them, and that like Stella McCartney, I could think of them as vegan shoes, not plastic ones.  And that helped.  So I took them back from her.  I still feel bad about it.  But she will survive.

People.  This dress was $31.  The tights almost cost the same as the dress.  And it is a good dress.  I love the egg shape, love the metallic, love the seaming, love love love it.  But most of all I love the racerback.  And it has pockets.  Squeal!  This dress might be my score of the year.

The nice thing about not paying a lot for a dress is that you can try cracked-out things you might not otherwise try, because you’re not investing a huge sum.  I am petrified of high-neck clothing.  I am always nervous my neck will look fat or that my head will look even bigger than it is.  But I like the idea of a high neck classing up a maxi, so I took a gander at this dress, and it’s interesting.  I did feel a bit vulnerable with the slinky fabric, so I threw on a belt to give the waistline some structure.

Look at my christmas cactus behind me!  Still kickin‘.

Happy hunting.  And I’d love to hear about your go-to purveyor of cheap party wear.

how to tame your skinnies

We can all think of a fashion trend that we hope will die a quick death.  High on my current list are coated jeans, because unless you are literally a giraffe, your legs are going to look fat in jeans made of a shiny, reflective material.  Sorry.  It’s not really a trend, but I also hate concert t-shirts, because I don’t have any, due to my lifelong fear of public concert venues (so smelly! so loud! and why are my shoes stuck to the floor?).

If skinny jeans are, for you, the trend that refuses to die, I have some bad news: they’ve been going strong for a few years now, and I don’t think they’re going away anytime soon.  They may even become [gulp] a classic.  You may think you can’t wear them, but yoonanimous says you can.  You don’t have to be thin, or long-legged, or even a woman.  Herewith, tips on how to take some of the sting out of skinny jeans.

***I’m trying out Pinterest in conjunction with some of my fashion posts so I can share shopping leads.  Please follow me on Pinterest (see red button at right) to check out my tried-and-true skinny picks.  I’m a Pinterest newbie, so bear with me, and let me know what you think!

1. Length: a salesperson at TBD once remarked to me that her department referred to me as “the 26.5 inch girl.”  And here’s why: as soon as I buy skinny jeans, I have them hemmed to a 26.5 inch inseam.  I am very specific about the length.  I’ve flirted with 27″ and 25″, but 26.5 is my number.  That’s about an inch and a half above my ankle bone.  Hear me now, believe me later: showing the skinniest part of your leg in a pair of pants will automatically make your legs look skinnier.  For most of us, the skinniest part of our leg is our ankles.  If, on the other hand, your skinnies go all the way to your shoe, they will make your legs look bigger.  I cannot explain the scientific reason for this, but I guarantee it to be the case.  Go to your closet, pull out the skinnies you hate, and roll the hem under an inch or two.  Makes your legs look better, right?  Also probably makes your shoes look better.  Solid.  A word of caution: hem your jeans too short and you’ll lose the slimming effect–hem them too long and it’ll just look like you shrunk your jeans.  Send me a photo if you want a second opinion.

2. Ankle opening: you’re no novice.  You already know to check out the length of the rise when you’re buying jeans.  No offense to True Religion, but a 6-inch rise is not your friend, at least not if you’ve had children.  So let’s take it up a notch–a lot of websites that know their denim will include information about the circumference of the ankle opening.  With skinnies, the tighter that ankle opening is, the more they are going to look like a legging, and need I remind you how unflattering leggings are on most people?  No, I don’t.  I prefer a 10 or 11-inch ankle opening.  For reference, the ankle opening on the red pair above is 10 inches.  The blue pair above are 11 inches.

3. Stretch: the denim companies are starting to get with the program and are putting less stretch in their skinny jeans.  You want a fabric that will give, but that will hold you in.  I am convinced this is the sole reason the J Brand 811 twill skinny is so flattering on so many people.  The twill is a nice weight and keeps its shape beautifully.  I’ve talked about this jean and worn it so many times on this blog that I’m starting to bore myself.  Buy some, already.

See my skinny picks on Pinterest…and happy weekend!

below the belt

There are things I hate to buy.  Window coverings, for starters.  I hate curtains and I hate blinds, so my neighbors see a lot more of me than they probably should.  Bras: ugh.  Why aren’t they government subsidized?  I wear the same three bras I bought in 2008 and get panicky at the thought of having to buy new ones.  But most of all, I hate to buy belts.  They’re always more expensive than you think they should be (read: free), and there’s little upside–no one’s going to notice your belt, no matter how ugly or amazing it is.

So when I find a great belt, it really means something.  I bought a peacock blue belt at J. Crew about a year ago, and I loved it as I had never loved a belt before.  It was an interesting blue and matched with nothing but somehow added a certain je ne sais quoi to everything I wore it with.  You can see it, in better times, here.

About a week ago, I realized the belt was missing.  It wasn’t on the floor, it wasn’t stuck in a pair of pants, and it most definitely was not on my belt rack.  So I interrogated all three guys about it.  I suspected that my toddler may have hidden it somewhere, but when I put Tate under a heat lamp and grilled him, he stared at me stone-faced, probably wondering what “blue” is.  When I strapped Finn into his carseat and gave him the stink-eye through my rearview mirror, Finn copped to having seen the belt but swore he put it back on the belt rack after he’d last used it to lasso his brother.  As for Tom, he denied any knowledge of the belt’s whereabouts with a mien that suggested that I was a shallow wench for caring so much about something so inconsequential as a belt.

And then, two days ago, as I was putting away some laundry, there it was, on the back of the belt rack that I’d checked at least ten times.  Except, it looked different.  It looked like this.

Here’s the thing: I have eyes, and a brain.  So my brain recollects that the belt was not hanging from the rack the last ten times I checked.  And my eyes perceive that the belt was put through some serious trauma.  When I first saw the mangled belt, my blood pressure spiked so quickly that I actually felt my forehead get hot.  What was Tom thinking?  That I wouldn’t notice that my missing belt was suddenly in its rightful spot after apparently being put through a hot wash cycle and long tumble dry?  When I confronted him about it, Tom played dumb for about six sweaty, pathetic seconds before adding insult to injury by suggesting that if I hadn’t left the belt on the floor, he wouldn’t have accidentally put it in the wash with my clothes.  Duh!  Forget the fact that I don’t want him to wash my clothes, EVER, and that, despite that fact, he keeps doing so, and ruining everything I own.  Forget too that he managed to 1) put the belt in the wash, 2) remove it from the washer, and 3) transfer it to the dryer–a three-step process during which any normal human being might notice a blue leather belt, far away from home and lost in a rough part of town.

But forget the belt.  Because this post isn’t really about my stupid belt.  It’s about two truths regarding arguments.  First, it never goes well to blame the victim.  It doesn’t work in the courtroom, and it doesn’t work at home.  And two: sometimes you have to stand there, with your beloved, mangled belt hanging from your hand, and realize that no belt is worth the drama.

There will be other belts.  But for me, there’s only one Tom.  And he’s kind to do the laundry, no matter how terribly it turns out.  So it goes.

ways to wear: high-rise jeans

With jeans, I’m always looking for the perfect blue.  A true blue without any gray or green, and not a lot of distressing.  Browsing the markdowns at Revolve, I found it, in a J Brand wash called Lotus.  And marked down to $85!  The problem: the only style the color came in was a high-rise flare–a cut that, when done wrong, can be cruel enough to put you off jeans altogether.

But what’s this blog for if not to challenge myself?  Spring is in the air and I’m tired of my skinnies.  And the jeans reminded me of my all-time favorites, a pair of vintage Levis 517s that I had in high school.  The $85 J Brands felt a little like fate.

Pantywaist

There are a few reasons why high-rise jeans are so dangerous.  First, the potential for camel toe.  Sorry to get all personal, but the issue of camel toe needs to be addressed.  If you don’t know what it is, google it, but not if you’re at work.  My personal theory for why camel toe happens so often with high rise jeans is because you tend to hike up high-rise jeans, and when you hike too aggressively, that’s when the camel toe happens.  Second danger: pancake ass.  To be Asian is to be at one with the pancake ass.  I could write a book about pancake ass.  High-rise jeans present a high risk of pancake ass because they create the illusion that your butt is longer than it really is.

I think the temptation with high-rise jeans is to wear something longer on top to cover some of the rise in the back so your butt doesn’t look so long.  But if you’re feeling like a challenge, try pairing a high rise with a cropped sweater.  The whole point of a high rise is the 70s feel, and you miss out on a lot of that if you just cover up the waist.  And for me, the pairing seemed to create curves where I don’t really have any, so that’s an added bonus.  Be careful what you layer under a cropped sweater.  Too long, and you’ll ruin the look.

Or Don’t Tuck

If you’re reading this and you just can’t get behind the tucking in, I hear you.  But consider this: a pair of high rise jeans is better than a pair of Spanx for slimming, if you’re going to be wearing the jeans under tops that you don’t intend to tuck in.  The high rise will cover your stomach and kind of tighten up the area, so they are a solid choice for pairing with tops made of slinkier materials (like jersey–God I hate jersey).  Just make sure to get the sizing right.  If they aren’t tight enough, they will just add more material to the belly area, instead of sucking you in.

Back to Basics

At my core, I’m a t-shirt and jeans girl.  But the t-shirt has to be right.  I hate tight necklines and the sleeve has to be short, but not too short.  The t-shirt below has been my standby since law school.  I have it in four colors.  I wear it to bed, I wear it to work out, and now I wear it with my high-rise jeans.  It’s also actually $22, not $24, but it’s been a long weekend and I’m too tired to fix the price in the photo below.  The tri-blend fabric is especially good with the high-rise because it underscores that 70s vibe.

Other stuff I intend to wear these jeans with: a tight black turtleneck with a big earthy necklace over it (think Ali McGraw).  Or belted, with a chambray button-down, for a little denim-on-denim action.  I’ll lose the boots when it gets warm and wear them with wedges and a tank.

Have I convinced you even a little?

ways to wear: mens’ casual

I’ve had a few requests for a post about weekend basics for guys. So here it is: ideas for a few guys’ no-brainer pieces that go the distance, targeted specifically for the guy who cares how he looks, but not enough to really do anything proactive about it. If you, like my friend Eric, already know your way around a deep-V and skinny jeans, this post is not for you.

I don’t pay as much attention to what I pay for Tom’s clothes as I do for mine. So I’ve left off a few details regarding price. Also, the model in this post is my long-suffering husband. If you know Tom, be assured that he only posed for these photos under extreme duress. I may have even accused him of hating my blog. So please be kind.

The sweatshirt

Tom has a Michigan sweatshirt that is 20 years old, complete with a frayed neckline, paint splatters, and one sleeve ripped to the elbow. When he wears it, he reminds me enough of Jennifer Beals in Flashdance to make me uncomfortable.

If my friend Linds doesn’t like an article of clothing of her husband’s, she donates it while he’s gone or throws it away, and then simply lies about its whereabouts. I admire her technique, but when it comes to that Michigan sweatshirt, I have a better chance of winning the 2012 Olympic gold medal in the 400-meter hurdles than I have of getting rid of it on the sly. That’s because Tom loves it so much that he checks on it periodically, to make sure it’s still molting in the drawer where he last left it.

Chances are, there’s a sweatshirt like Tom’s that’s currently ruining your social life. So do a bait and switch, and get him a sweatshirt you can live with. Make sure it’s cut slim to the body, and made of a thinner material than a full athletic fleece. The advantage of such a sweatshirt is that you can dress it up by throwing a cool coat over it, without the bulk. No prints please, or logos.

Merino sweater + Gingham

I like to think that Tom’s sense of style improved vastly when we met. Tom thinks he was born with it, like Athena springing full-warrior from the forehead of Zeus. The truth is somewhere in between. I generally buy his clothes–which explains the huge gaping hole in his brain where a working knowledge of clothing prices should be–but he figures out how to put them together. It works best this way, because he can legitimately snarl “NO” when someone asks “Did Yoona put together your outfit?”

Of course, if I’m going to be seen with him, I get a veto. But I don’t use my veto power much when it’s cold, because Tom is a pro with jeans and outerwear. In summer, I veto things all the time, mostly because Tom starts feeling compelled to wear shorts, and husband or no, I can’t get behind the idea of a man that pale in shorts. I mean, if he happens to be standing in shorts against a white wall, it can actually look like his shorts are floating in thin air, suspended above his shoes. But that’s another post for another time.

Anyway, like anything else, putting an outfit together takes practice. And practice will go easier with pieces that work with lots of different things. Like a crewneck merino sweater and a gingham shirt. The merino sweater can be thrown over a button-down and khakis for work, as easily as it can be thrown over a tee and jeans. The gingham shirt is a good layering piece–everyone looks good in gingham, and it’ll add a little visual interest to an outfit otherwise comprised of solids. Put the gingham under a hoody, or iron it and wear it for drinks under a blazer. Easy.

Gray jeans

You have jeans. And they are not dad jeans. Sweet. So let’s take it to the next level.

Gray jeans are versatile. They are more interesting than blue jeans, so they work well for dinner parties and other situations requiring a modicum of effort. But they aren’t so interesting that you will get ridiculed by your friends at the sports pub. If you wear a lot of black or navy on top, gray jeans are a no brainer. Go get some.

Topper + Boots

I have real trouble with my own outerwear. I never like my coat as much as my outfit, so I usually go without. In this regard, I really envy Tom this Nau coat. It’s waterproof and machine-washable, and looks slick on top of a suit. I call it the Fixer, because it is capable of concealing all manner of sartorial crimes underneath.

Make sure your weekend coat length suits your purposes. Tom’s 6’4″ and has long legs, so this length suits him, but Nau makes a lot of shorter jackets. A word on Nau–they started out expensive and have gotten even more so, but I find it to be a reliably awesome brand for men. Tom’s Nau pieces get heavy rotation and have held up well over years of use.

As for the Bean Boots, Tom told me once that if there was ever a fire at the house, he would grab the boots first. Can you smell the romance?

So, there you have it. A few basics that will get you from your kid’s soccer practice on Saturday morning to a dinner party on Sunday. What are your favorite weekend basics?

ways to wear: color at work

Color was big in 2011.  And the fashion editors are saying color will continue to be big into the spring.  Since they’ll be around for a while, let’s figure out a way to put those brights to work at the office.

I own a lot of orange-red because I find the color very easy to match with other colors, and you get a lot of bang for the buck in terms of drama.  I focused on that color in this post, but any of these looks would work well with other brights that might be sitting in your closet.  If you’re shopping for some color, try cobalt, mustard, or fuschia–all versatile brights that pair well with neutrals.

Nice ‘n Easy

I’m a lawyer, but I’m a plaintiffs’ lawyer, and plaintiffs’ lawyers generally don’t like to look like we spend too much money on our clothing, or that we think about clothing at all.  So I can get away with more casual looks at the office.  The outfit below comes in handy when I’m bloated and/or can’t bear the thought of heels.

J. Crew sells a merino version of the boyfriend sweater above but it retails for almost $90.  I bought the sweater at Forever 21 in three colors for less than $50 total.  “But they’re polyester, Yoona.”  For $50, I don’t care if they’re made of plastic ketchup bottles.  And let me just say this: if anyone at work is standing close enough to you that they can tell that your sweater is made of polyester, that’s not right.  Just my legal opinion.

Colored Pencil

My husband generally doesn’t notice my clothing, unless it looks new or expensive.  But he notices every time I wear a pencil skirt, so I try to throw him a bone and wear one from time to time.  This one is my favorite.  J. Crew is making pencil skirts in all sorts of colors, in wool and “double serge” cotton, which is apparently fashion-speak for “hideously overpriced.”  If you want proof that J. Crew never changes their clothes, please note that the skirt below was purchased four years ago.  There’s something comforting in that, I guess.

Casual Friday

I imagine if you’re one of those lucky SOBs who have a creative job, or even better, if you’re your own boss, you could dress like this even when it’s not Friday.  For the rest of us, the colored jeans probably have to wait for casual days.  But boy, given my investment in colored jeans, I spend a lot of time trying to figure out how to dress them up and disguise them for work.

A note on the jeans.  First of all, they were on sale at Nordstrom for $99.90 but all I paid was $20 after cashing in a Nordstrom note and a gift card.  I imagine that’s not that interesting to you, but I feel like I should get a shopping medal.  Secondly, I’m a J Brand girl, but these AGs are something else.  They are made of a thicker denim that holds like a dream.  I’ve worn them for four consecutive days and the knees haven’t bagged out.  That’s like, unheard of.  And I love the color, which is a deep green-blue.  The perfect foil for orange-red!

How are you wearing brights at work?

TGIF

What a week.  Five-year old home sick on Tuesday, toddler home sick on Wednesday, client deposition on Thursday, and yoonanimous on Freshly Pressed to cap it all off.  Five days of madness, frustration, joy.

Usually my weekday outfits are rushed and thrown together, and it shows.  And today was no different, except that when I caught a glimpse of myself on the way out the door this morning, I liked what my subconscious had thrown together while I was busy getting everyone out the door.  So, here’s to iPhone photos, short blog posts, and grateful Fridays.