image via 94.5 |
I'm in the midst of a one-third life fashion crisis. The last time I remember this feeling I was 23, working as a buyer at Ann Taylor, and realized one day as I zipped up my favorite pair of boot cut Seven jeans that I was not a college kid anymore, and my wide bottom jeans had to go. Shortly after that, half my wardrobe sat in a donation pile waiting for my friend Rebecca to come and sift through.
Since the epic purge of 2005, I went to law school, got married, had a baby, went back to work as a lawyer, turned 30, then 31, and now 32. Slowly the same feeling has crept its way back as I get dressed these mornings, trying to find a good outfit for the steamy humidity of New York in July, while balancing my new-ish career among the business professionals ranging from fellow 30-something contemporaries to those far higher in the ranks. Skirts purchased a mere season ago suddenly seem too young, too short. And the pencil skirts I've been clinging too since pre-Tucker days hug my post- 9 pound natural baby delivery hips a little too tightly. Dresses I loved now feel far too immature. And don't get me started on summer shoes.
Whats a girl to do? Lucky for me Rebecca is coming to town any day now to take another heaping pile of clothes off my hands (she is 2 years younger and now lives in California, therefore anything goes). And without the funds to makeover my office wear, I need to make old seem new, and feel comfortable in what I own. The worst feeling I can have at work is suddenly realizing I hate my outfit. Bad enough the 90 pound amazon from the investment banking firm down the hall (clad in Prada and perfectly straight locks) always finds me in the restroom desperately trying to tame my frizzy summer curls. Showing up in a skirt that all of a sudden feels 2 inches short and a top that is more suited for ladies who lunch than women who work adds insult to injury.
linking up with Mix and Match Fashion and Living in Color