Paris, January 2013 She looked as if she had been poured into her clothes and had forgotten to say 'when.'
~ P.G. Wodehouse
Sometimes you just gotta buy some new duds. A real book, a camera gadget, theatre tickets - they just aren't going to do it for you. You need to bond with the tweed.
After a month of what I like to call The Big Purge - the clothes closet of ‘what was I thinking’ outfits, office files, both manila and electronic, a kitchen pantry filled with stale baking chocolate and baskets of takeout soy sauce packets and boxes of mystery cables and chargers that belonged to gizmos I don’t even own any longer, I do believe I have earned and deeply deserve some new clothes.
Especially with fall, my fave season, in the air. And even though I live in the Land of Extreme Heat, aka LA, and can't wear a midnight blue blazer right now, I can buy one. Then sometime on a November afternoon around Thanksgiving, I'll finally be able to put it on. But then I find anticipation to be half the fun.
So later this week I will go on a scouting trip. I'm hunting for the blazer, some statement shirts and a gray, navy or white pullover with subtle details that will add that certain je ne sais quoi. I'm through with safe basics that go with EVERYTHING. I want mystery, romance, adventure. And after surfing Pinterest photos, I know that the right light blue Margaret Howell, A.P.C., Isabel Marant shirt will give it to me.
I don't NEED anything, mind you, especially since I've decided to actually wear the scarves and jewelry I already have and which are supposed to make every GAP tee/dark wash jean ensemble look fresh and new and thrown together with insouciance. So I can wait for the blazer that sings to me and not buy the make-do version, which has been my wont.
And then I'll buy the new lens.
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