I love fashion. Not in the “read the magazines, stalk the super models, starve myself and my family so I can afford a $700 purse” kind of love. But a “man I wish I could wear that, isn’t that a cute top, I miss high heels” kind of love.
I used to dress sort of cute, although I NEVER would’ve considered myself a fashionista. Certainly not a trend-setter. I always felt like I was a few days behind the curve. I would notice all the girls wearing the knee socks and loafers. I’d think, “Gee, I need to go buy some knee socks and loafers.” But I had to wait until I saved up enough for them. By the time I made it to JC Penny’s and Payless to catch up on the trend, the girls wouldn’t be wearing knee socks and loafers anymore.
This made me sad.
But I still always felt cute and confidant in my clothes….until.
You know what the until means.
Until I “GAINED THE WEIGHT.”
Now, my basic everyday uniform consists of jeans, flip flops, and a comfortable, cotton tee of some shade. Today, it’s brown. Yesterday, it was green. The day before that, it was teal. (Somewhere in Manhattan, Stacy and Clinton are cringing.)
(I am good at accessories, though. Especially making them. And selling them. In my Etsy Shop.)
There are some current trends that I just ADORE, and dream about trying to pull off. Like the tunic with leggings thing. Or this:
Thoughts I have when adoring this outfit: