Friday, June 27, 2008

My Own Personal Stylist

I was in my room, choosing what to wear for a meeting tonight, when Middle Sister walked on in and went all Stacy and Clinton on me.

I was interrogated about my clothing choices, scolded for the stretch in my favorite dressy jeans (hey, they're dark wash, boot cut--I thought I was doing that right!), berated for purchasing the wrong kind of pants (or should I say trousers) and told in no uncertain terms that the next time I went shopping, she was coming with me.

Way to strike fear in a mother's heart. Our clothing tastes are so wildly different. We'd kill each other in a store. It was bad enough when she was going through my closet.

Middle Sister is not in favor of the Khaki Trouser, the Black Clog, or the Navy Jacket. She thinks I wear certain other items "too much" which means "more than once in the last 2 months."

That's not leaving me with much, outside of things that are Way Too Casual or Funeral Attire.

And then she started in on the accessories. This is the only necklace I'm wearing, thanks.

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