I’ve always been told that plaid made me look like a lumberjack (a few extra inches from heels and broad shoulders really don’t help my case), so I’ve stayed away from it for a while. But there’s an exception to every rule, and this gingham print has me feeling like the antithesis of Paul Bunyan. And I know it’s passé to match your belt to your shoes to your purse but I love all three of these items so much that I just couldn’t fight it. Then there’s this more-comfortable-than-anything skirt, and it fit together in time for chapter meeting.
The takeaway from today is that most fashion-related rules aren’t real. Someone liked how it felt to toss their hair and say “white after Labor Day? It simply isn’t done” and then it spiraled into a mess of do’s and don’ts. What is real, or what ought to be, is the total effect. Isn’t the confidence and smile you wear when an outfit feels right, isn’t that better than a tsk tsk? Heads will turn either way, people will see you either way, you might as well make it worth their while. I’m not saying step out in neon orange or head-to-toe denim (although if the urge does strike, far be it from me to tell you otherwise), I’m just asking what is really gained from following all those little rules?
Which is rich, coming from the queen of rules/order/systems, but you know what I mean. What I did today–heels, belt and purse all matching AND brown and black AND plaid on these big old shoulders–it felt right. And I wore it right, I think, and people see that before they see (*gasp*) corresponding neutrals. If you’re like me, sand is positively gushing through our metaphorical college hourglass. Let’s take every chance, every belt and every faux pas, that makes us smile, and appreciate that for what it’s worth.