Black Jeans, Endless Outfits: My Rotation of Tops, Shoes and Colors
My sister took one look at me walking into her kitchen last Thanksgiving, wearing the same black jeans I’d worn to her house every single visit for two years, and…
My sister took one look at me walking into her kitchen last Thanksgiving, wearing the same black jeans I’d worn to her house every single visit for two years, and…
I counted them properly last week, standing in front of the closet with a glass of wine and entirely too much time on my hands, and the number was eleven.…
I counted them last week, which was a mistake, because now I cannot stop thinking about it. Seven pairs of black tie shoes live in my closet, not including two…
I was sitting on the kitchen floor last Sunday night with a can of shoe polish, a horsehair brush, and three pairs of shoes lined up like suspects, trying to…
The reputation black wide leg pants carry is that they are a magic trick you cannot mess up, the one pants silhouette that makes everyone look taller, leaner, more put…
I ironed my black jeans once. Properly ironed them, crease down the front like school trousers, because I had a second interview for a job I badly wanted and I’d…
I own fourteen black dresses. I counted them properly last week, laid them across the bed like some sort of very somber card trick, and the number should have alarmed…
I was on the floor of my closet at eleven at night, cross legged, surrounded by shoes I’d pulled out of a bin I hadn’t opened since March, because I…
I own exactly one black satin skirt, a midi with a bias cut that hits just below the knee, and I have worn it, by my own rough count going…
I was standing in the hallway with one shoe on and one shoe in my hand, running eleven minutes later than I should have been for a meeting I didn’t…