I wasn’t going to post this outfit because, hello, blog-worthy it is not. Even by the admittedly low standards of this blog. Cute and comfy, yes. Stylish, not particularly. But the photo itself struck me as familiar somehow and, after a bit of digging, I realized why.
OK, I didn’t actually steal this dress. I just … stole the idea of this dress. From Adrien, because she has the best dresses, ever. I waited for what seemed like an eternity for this one to pop up on eBay so I could make it my own, and when it finally did, I did. And, clearly, I have no shame because I’m splashing my bad deeds all over this here blog. Awesome dress is awesome. Happy dress-thief dance.
There is a lesson to be learned from this immoral anecdote, I’m sure, and it’s not that style thievery pays. (Although, listen: it totally does. In compliments and undeserved style cred. I would know.) No, I think it’s something about patience, or perhaps about being really good at eBay. Wait, maybe it’s about the importance of finding amazing style inspiration. Yes, I think that might be it. And, hey, if you’re in the market for some of that, you can always check out some of the truly stylish ladies who inspire me (linkies in my blogroll).
Having No Good, Very Bad Days seems to be turning into a habit of mine these days; as you might imagine, I am not thrilled about this. One of the side-effects of toting around my own personal black cloud is that I am. Never. Happy with whatever outfit I manage to cobble together. And that makes writing this blog tricky, because “grumble, grumble, grumble” surely has a limited appeal. You’ve heard one grumble, you’ve heard them all.
Anywhoodle, the title. It’s about the shoes. I know, it’s just a pair of loafers we’re talking about, but these are style-boundary-pushing shoes for me, you guys. I don’t really do menswear-inspired anything, least of all shoes. I’m not sure this was the best shoe choice for this particular outfit (seeing as it adds a third, unnecessary shade of mismatched tan/camel to the outfit), but I’d like to think I still get a gold star for effort. Half a gold star? OK, fine, I’ll settle for a cookie.
Here’s a closer look at the shoes:
They were a pretty good consignment score from last summer, or possibly early fall; that whole period is pretty much a blur of late-pregnancy hormones and post-delivery sleep deprivation slash exhaustion. All things considered, buying them was not the worst decision I could have made at that point. Judging by the soles, they were new, and they set me back a whole $46; I don’t veer into uncharted style territory unless the ride is cheap, cheap, cheap.
Speaking of things that were trendy 3 years ago, here’s my “arm party”: