December 22, 2011

In which I come perilously close to breaking my own rules

So, I have very few rules for myself when it comes to clothing. The white-after-Labor-Day rule? Nah. Open-toed shoes in the winter? Nope. Mixing black with brown or navy? Sure, why not.
But there is one rule I have. And it is this: Leggings are not pants. I don't care how awesome your butt looks or how thin your thighs are. Please, for the love of all that is good in the world, please don't put on a pair of leggings and a short shirt and call it a day.
It's true, I love leggings. So comfortable and so versatile... and they make dresses so much more wearable when you spend your days chasing children, as I do. But I always, always wear something long over them. Like this sweater. Which - as I'm looking at the photo above - seems to have gotten shorter and shorter in the time that I've owned it. We're now hovering precariously atop that mid-thigh cutoff area, above which it is quite likely I am flashing everyone in town, each time I buckle my son into his carseat...

Sweaterdress: Old Navy
Blue t-shirt: Old Navy
Dark grey leggings: Kohls
Black boots: Target
Studded watch: Mudd
Studded bracelet: Baked Beads

Where: Preschool, shopping mall, photo store, craft store, liquor store, preschool again, tons of work at home.

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