But I've been trying. Harder than I usually do, anyway.
Both of the esteemed bloggers mentioned above post super cute pics of themselves wearing their adorable and perfectly accessorized outfits occasionally, but my only available photographer is four and can usually only take a picture of my eyebrow or my knee, but not both at the same time, so you're getting the outfits without the me. Which, by the way? I'm totally fine with.
Also, I totally get that I'm no grand fashionista, nor will I ever be, but when I can say that I actually GOT DRESSED in something other than pajamas and combed my hair every day for a week, it's pretty amazing.
So anyway, here's what I wore last week:
On Monday, I wore this adorable little thing. It is super cute and was perfect for running around, grocery shopping and the like. It was comfortable, cool, and definitely a step up from the Batman t-shirts I prefer.
On Monday, I saw ZERO people that I know.
On Tuesday, I wore this little skirt and top combo. When I do dress myself in something other than workout clothes, I prefer separate pieces, since I am, ahem, quite a bit larger on the top than on the bottom.
A stranger complimented my skirt, but on Tuesday I saw ZERO people that I know.
And on Wednesday, I saw ZERO people that I know.
Since I didn't really have anywhere to go on Thursday, I kept things super casual, but I did have to answer the door when the mailman brought a package, and he seemed super pleased that I wasn't in my typical door-answering outfit.
People I saw that I know (other than the mailman, of course): ZERO.
On Friday, I wore this summery little thing (with a cardigan, of course - no strapless bras for me) and seriously, I'm starting to think that dresses are more comfortable than jeans any day. And since I hate shorts, dresses may be the way to go!
Friday was another day that I saw ZERO people that I know.
And then the weekend came. I had no place to go, no plans WHATSOEVER to leave the house, and to be honest, getting dressed every day had pretty much exhausted me so I stuck with "around the house" clothes, also known as "white trash awesome." This particular outfit consisted of a tie dye shirt that says Key West (where I have never been, by the way, so I'm not really sure where this shirt came from), a pair of R's old boxers, and my hair was piled on top of my head in what I refer to as a "shitball." You get the picture.
And everything was fine. Until right after dinner, when we decided that maybe ice cream was in order, and since we were just going to go through a drive-through for cones, I threw on my gardening Crocs (I SWEAR I almost never wear them out of the house
any more) with my outfit du jour and off we went.
Except... On the way there, I realized the gas light was blinking. And not just in a "this is a friendly reminder that you might want to get gas soon, like maybe tomorrow, or next Tuesday" kind of way, more in a "OH MY GOD FEED ME NOW YOU LAZY FOOL, OR I'M GOING TO DIE ON YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BUSIEST INTERSECTION I CAN FIND!!!" way.
So I stopped for gas.
Number of people I saw that I knew at the most out of the way, deserted gas station I could find: FOURTEEN.