Yesterday I celebrated my 46th birthday. It was marked with kind words, great food, and a lot of gratitude. As I cut into my Crumbl cookies I made a wish (no, no candles. Who does candles in this post-pandemic era?). I didn't wish for more wishes, world peace, or that Dead To Me would end different (all solid, noble wishes). Instead, I wished that I would look and feel more fashionable.
That sounds ridiculous coming from a professed fashionista and a card-carrying shopaholic. This last year has been particularly tough, though, and I'm in need of...I don't know...something. This year I faced a closet crisis where I often didn't know what to wear. I was always missing the right foundational pieces. I wore less than fashionable outfits to places where I should have been the glam in the room. I grieved over the inability to wear heels and begrudgingly embraced socks and 'stocks. In this past year I lost a few pounds and battled with ill fitting clothing. I also took on a job where style is what I do...and yet somehow I'm failing at it. Finally, finances have been a challenge. There were months where I had to make due with what already wasn't serving me. Talk about withdrawals!
It's been a lot.
So in this next year, I'm wishing to change all that. I predict there will be more closet cleanses and items getting posted to Poshmark (cha-ching!). I will learn to do more budget friendly shopping that results in high end looks (I've got an image - and job - to keep, after all). I'm going to adjust my personal style to my new shoe choices and somehow still be the most stylish woman in the room. Maybe I'll push my own style boundaries a little further than they already are. And I'm going to restock my closet with fashion foundations that actually fit. In other words: I'm getting my fashion shit together.