Sunday, July 20, 2008

Not your average Mrs Roper

I watched Oprah the other day, for the first time in ages. Seems like every time I actually get time, and custody of the TV, while Oprah is on, then it's a show I've already seen. Not this time.

This time it was about me.

Oprah did a show about shlumpadinkas. No, it's not Polish. It's Oprah-ese for a frumpy dressed woman who, in her words, "has given up, and it shows." Yep, that's me. The Brat is always threatening to throw my name in the hat for What Not to Wear. Heck, I'm pretty sure it's not just a threat -- I think she actually DID put my name in that hat. Drives her nuts, my shlumpy ways because, as she says, "how can someone have such cute taste in clothes to sell, and suck with her own wardrobe?"

Well, dear, it's cause there's no dress code in my life. Actually, there's not much of a dress code in anyone's life anymore, but you still wouldn't see me going out in my pajama bottoms. Heck, hubby went out to the minimart one time in his boxers, expressly to buy a newspaper from the machine, in the midst of a hurricane. You wouldn't see me doing that. I'm just a jeans and T shirt girl, cause that's what we wear to work. All those billboards of your Ask-A-Nurse sitting there in starched whites, with her cap on? Nope. Jeans and T shirts, or on a good day, when I'm working days during the week, maybe a skirt or a dress, with flip flops.

People usually don't care what's on your feet when you're on the phone, right?

Of course, being married to a painter helps, cause when everything he owns is covered in paint, it doesn't pay to dress up. Jill's always in either pajama bottoms, or boot leg jeans, with cowboy boots on. And heck, you're lucky to see Seth with clothes on. Dan's paint partner swore that he never saw that kid in clothes till he was at least 8, because he was prone to stripping off at any point in time -- even if it was 20 below, and we were on the way to church. He HATED wearing clothes. He's better now, but still wears shorts all winter, given the chance, just like his big brother.

And so, in order to find something comfy to wear at home that's not beaten up jammies, I went wandering around and found this cinch waisted caftan, at Kiss My Vintage. It's the perfect blend of comfy and style, if only I had the 28 inch waist to go with it! But it's not Mrs. Roper, and definitely not shlumpadinka. So yeah, it's what to wear, or you can kiss MY vintage.

1 comment:

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