WHAT NOT TO WEAR

(an addendum to Tuesday’s post "USE IT OR LOSE IT, SISTER!" because even I’m not perfect…)

I’m totally stealing the name while paying homage to one of the greatest informative TV shows ever created (airs on TLC, check it out).  Stacy London & Clinton Kelly's ability to make a person over inside and out is truly amazing and inspiring, and their ability to entertain while doing so is a bonus.  And their wardrobes?  Just stop it right there.  For fun, sometimes I go about my day pretending that I’m a renegade version of the WNTW team, ready to ambush the person next to me on the subway, for example.  Like, if I only had two seconds to help this poor sap, what's one thing I could do to make him or her look better?  It’s a fun game.  

But what if someone were doing this to me?  I’m terrified of the idea.  I’m not concerned about my planned attire for nights out or even for when I get dressed for neighborhood errands because I always put thought into what I wear (I was an Associate Buyer in a past life so I know how to make an outfit work).  I’m talking about the times when I don't think and I run outside quickly in an old t-shirt and pajama pants.  In my sick little mind I’m imagining Stacy & Clinton with hidden cameras watching and judging.  And maybe they should be; it can get pretty ugly at times.  Just the other day (this is really bad, brace yourself) I had on a faded drinking tee from freshman year of college (3 sizes too big because maybe enormous shirts were cool in the late 90’s?), a yellow flannel button down, paired with red flannel pants.  What the?!  It was chilly in my apartment, plus I have the circulation of a 90 year old woman, and it was really early in the morning...excuses, excuses.  I was about to take the trash downstairs but by some miracle realized what was happening and stopped myself.  There are commuters that walk by my house that could’ve seen me like this and I have a rep to protect!  So I left the trash on the top step just outside my door. 

Then panic set in.  Would my thoughtless wardrobe choices turn me into a hoarder from this point on?  I can see it now: family having to come in through the back windows of my apartment because the stairs become so clogged with trash.  “She was too ashamed to leave her apartment – the clothes were just too bad,” as they’re shaking their heads in both sadness and shame.  

This scenario is progressing too far too fast!  I need to get rid of this old, over-sized junk and vow to never mismatch flannel plaid again.  I don't care if I'm in the middle of the biggest nor'easter to ever hit the city and won't be leaving my apartment for days.  I'm dressing cute, always, so I can take out my trash with dignity and not live in fear slash hope that the WNTW crew is waiting in the wings to whisk me away on a shopping spree.  Ahhh, if only to spend a week downtown with the stylish team.  A girl can dream.