The shorts never made it out last the weekend after all, but I’m hopeful they will soon. In the meantime, I’ve come an acceptance that chicks really dig the boyfriend jeans, but guys less so. You can’t win ’em all.
I found myself on a dancefloor on Sunday evening, standing beside a giant. The top of my head barely made it to his nipple. Anyway, I gave him my iPhone and told him to take a shot of the dancefloor. This was one of the three (with a couple of tweaks by me). A shame, really, the other two were on the blurry side. How strange it must be to be forever looking over or at the top of others’ heads. (That’s his beer in my right hand, just in case anyone thinks I was being a total monster with the booze, going double-barrelled.)
Last year, I was really into skinny jeans, but this year – a couple of months ago or so – I decided ENOUGH! I was tired of fighting my way into and out of the skinnies; remembering to put my socks on before the jeans (because have you ever tried rolling up skinny jeans to ensure your socks are completely and adequately over your ankles? It’s nigh on impossible!); seam indentations after I’d taken the jeans off. I could go on.
But I won’t.
Don’t get me wrong. I did (still do) like the skinny look (especially on model-ish body types with an alt rock style sensitivity). Because I’m not skinny, but somehow the skinny jeans did contribute a sort of a sense of being streamlined.
But I’m done now.
Boyfriend jeans are my denim of choice this year. So much more giving – and forgiving. I can actually wear these now and go out to dinner. And eat.
Plus rolling up my cuffs always makes me feel like I’m 15 years old again. Without the pimples and puppy fat and crippling insecurity.
Boyfriend jeans – for the WIN!
I grant you, not the best picture to post from an aesthetic or vanity (short legs, check!) viewpoint.
But here’s what I like about it: the effect of the sunlight on the carpet resulting in two different colours altogether. Combined with the lines of shadow, the effect is almost… cubist.
The other point being I wore the short onesie (playsuit) last night and it was a bad idea. There was a bite in the air, and I found myself shivering. The Hub thought I was play-acting, but hello, chattering teeth! Admittedly, I am a sun-lover so anything below 25C means discomfort. I think it’s goodbye to the onesie for this year.
Listening: After Glow by Foals
Everyone needs a black-and-white ankh in their life. This one is on a T-shirt acquired recently. I’m doing things backwards, I fear. I was never really a jeans-and-tee person, at least not when I was in my 20s, but now I can’t get enough of them. It’s unfortunate, frankly. My 20-something body departed years ago. So I’m having to distract myself with graphics-emblazoned t-shirts to counter the ankh-iety. (Groan.)
Still feeling a tad ‘festive’ despite having to pop into the office again today.
I wonder if anyone would notice if I turned up in my gold get-up (Hello, butterfly!) for our official return to work on Monday. I think it would go a long way towards keeping my mood cheerful. Corporate attire sucks, especially in summer.
Now, you see, I like my greens very much… when they’re on my plate. A meal devoid of greens is not worthy of being described thusly, in my humble opinion.
However, where my attire is concerned, greens have always been the shades shunned. I don’t know why this has been so.
When I visited my mother earlier this year, she commented that she loved wearing green. She said I should try it.
I was reminded of our conversation from months ago when I found this floral print top in San Francisco last week.
I saw it as mainly green when I bought it, but looking at the photo now, it’s clearly So Much More Than…
Will I be able to pull it off?