I am a fashion reject. Back in January, I wrote a post about how I wanted to step up my game and dress like a grown up–even though I work in solitary confinement as a freelance writer.
I’ve never been a fashionista. I like clothes. But I’m never sure what looks right on me. I’m too lazy to try things on and I feel like I never have the money to buy things that I think would make me fly.
Truth is, flyness is an attitude. A way of life.
And that’s not me.
I can pull it together for a night on the town. But in my day to day life, how I’m dressed doesn’t figure very prominently.
Until now.
A few months ago, I took a good long look at myself. (And my closet). And I did not like what I saw. Grubby sweats, ratty jeans, flats from Target that were run over, t-shirts that didn’t fit, dresses that were too big, too small, too old.
It’s frivolous, I know. And in the grand scheme of things, who cares what we’re wearing?
Work with me. I need a minute to be frivolous and completely gratuitous.
I asked my good friend, we’ll call her Little Miss Brown, to critique five days of outfits for me. Little Miss Brown is an executive at a luxury goods retailer. And she’s effortlessly fly. Always.
I told her to be no-holds-barred.
My goal is to look chic, pulled together and slightly sexy, (but not too sexy), every day. I’m almost 36. I have two children. And I schlep them both around a lot.
My hair’s going gray. And I can’t get in the gym as often as I’d like.
I’m getting old.
But that doesn’t mean I have to look like a schlub.
Herewith, everything I wore this week. And LittleMissBrown’s verdict. Gulp.
Aliya S. King 