Don’t Panic

Ok, my prep time for the big week of packing pants was preempted last night, by the Walking Dead finale.. a little insight into why I’ve fallen off the style wagon.  But whoa, worth it!  That show makes Sunday nights almost dread free.

Anyway, while watching, it dawned on me.. zombie madness would be WAY more complicated in a skirt (er, as in survival, not corpse wear).  Predators definitely affect wardrobe planning. and as we’ve established, I do not wish to be caught undead in a Skort.

So, I’ve ferreted out a few apocalyptically appropriate selections to be stored in your bug-out bag, in the event.  Proving, once again, there’s never a solid reason to resort to flannel. Why further depress the situation.

First, daywear.  This is actually something I would go for on any random Thurs.  Simple and clean.

Younger prey might prefer..

evening ’round the fire.

Formalwear.. never know.

Now go forth with NO excuses;)

Wait! Lastly (ranty spoilers), I’m a bit disappointed that pouty Andrea person didn’t blow herself up.  Anyone who loots a mermaid necklace (instead of, oh I dunno, a LEATHER JACKET!) for her adult sister deserves to burn.  Maybe if you’d made it home for a Christmas or two, you’d have noticed the Ariel posters were long gone.  And nearly as bad, you let her turn! Go with the mercy bullet a minute sooner, will ya.

Families should talk about these things.

Naked In The Rain

Slow start this morning. gray and cold in the city.  San Francisco cold, but still.  Crawled out of bed 15 mins late and pulled on The Ugliest oversized sweatshirt evar (a’ la Old Navy). seriously, it’s custom ugly.. washed and worn until the softest possible level of distress, then turned inside out for maximum smooth.  No patience for pantsless fuss.  I just wanted to be warm and I am. time left to digress.

But that tattered rag didn’t go over my head without a second thought.  Everything I slip on lately comes with a super annoying reminder “only three more weeks of sloveny goodness”.  which is definitely for the best, but yes, annoying.  I want to be comfortable, especially at 7:15AM. without all the metal nagging.

So now, naturally, I’m mulling over lame details. like, are leggings pants? can I wear them under a gown to stay toasty?? doesn’t sound like cheating, but it feels slightly lazy. guess I should just go with tights.  But thankfully, the dilemma isn’t likely to throw the earth off its axis.

Tho a couple of DEAR friends;p have pointed out a few snags that might rattle a girl’s confidence.  Running and Sleeping.  two of my favorite things.  The solutions to both fall on opposite ends of cool.  Sleep is easy.. several choices of appropriate (and better yet, inappropriate!) nightgowns lay waiting to snooze me thru 2011.  but RUNNING. jeepers, people, the horror.  The Sport Skort might somehow squeeze it’s eff’d up, bipolar-blended Lycra into my workout dresser.

but I’ve yet to commit to that one in my head.  I mean, what’s the point of cleaning up your slacker style if you then choose to jog into GG park looking like an uptight Marin housewife? next I’ll be wearing a bright pink Lulu earwarmer and matching gloves.  er, not that there’s anything wrong with that. heh. hmmm.

Anyway, I really unlike the exercise options. Can’t decide if I should just write in a secret proviso and keep all my running gear safely tucked away. HOW WILL YOU KNOW??;)

Regardless, the rest sticks. All pants, including PJs (aaaaaarrrggg!), and ok maaaaybe possibly workout togs, must go by Jan 1. I’m doing it.

So, Monday will kick off a week of sorting and boxing! and I’m stupid excited about the change.

Back in a couple..

Happy weekend, folks!

The Countdown

Nearly time to start again.  A new year, a new challenge, a new hobby.. er, is blogging a hobby?  I say yes.  Regardless, it’s how I want to spend the next 12+ months.  Talking about clothes, mostly, and probably a dash of food chatter, cosmetics, hair.  basically anything light and flighty I feel needs a good venting.  Nothing life-altering or pivotal. just levity.

So, The Challenge – I aim to give up PANTS for one year.  hot or cold, rain or shine.. no pants shall pass. period.  Over the next few weeks, I will box each and every pair of easy jeans, chinos, slacks, and trousers I own, and hide them deep in the recesses of my garage for as long as I can stand it.

What the devil is wrong with a nice pair of designer legs, you might ask if you were still reading?  I’ll explain, best I can.

For me, comfy pants have come to represent all that’s meh about my life.  It’s the easy road. lazy way of schlepping out into the world to deal with the already-way-too-humdrum tasks a day brings.  They’re at the hub of giving up.  They invite bad company like Merrells and Hanes underwear.  They welcome in baggy sweaters, sporty totes, cotton ankle socks.. their phlegmatical approach to style is widespread and rarely uplifting.

My hope, in giving them up, is to gain something back. reclaim a pinch of grace and poise.  Not to mention the scads of skirts and dresses haunting my closet from a former career life.  Things I’ve saved for the next workplace I’ve yet to land in.  I’m just tired of waiting for when.  I want to wear those nice pieces again and feel excited about finding new additions!  Shopping (and cooking, come to think of it) has fallen into survival mode.  I want the joy back.

And if you follow along, you might find your own Pants by year’s end.  The drab, tired thing keeping you from living in all CAPS!  maybe it’s the green hoodie with the curry stain on the cuff. or the boyfriend.  Toss them to the curb and see if you implode. it’s unlikely.

Ok, I’m off to think. actually a bit nervous when it comes to real action. just bought a new pair of Jambu Himalayas:( but yes, clear cry for wardrobe intervention!

this better work.