I have
categorized all of my expensive
little containers of make up into piles that match.
Cool light, cool dark,
warm neutral. This way, I can be assured of my
eyes matching my lips. I should do this with my clothing.
Olive green Atari Defender shirt with plain blue
jeans.
White v-necked t shirt with khaki shorts. Burnt orange polo shirt with teal and yellow stripes with uhhh...
This is why it takes me a minimum of ten minutes to pick out
clothes to wear out in public. My mother never taught me how to match my clothes, and what I think matches or looks good is
invariably met with a blank stare - people must wonder if I never have the chance to do my laundry. On men this is charming, on a 25 year old woman, it is frightening. I
see nothing wrong with pairing my
favorite shirt with my
favorite skirt.
The problem lies in the fact that my favorite shirt is a
red white and blue t-shirt that says "Detroit" on the back, and is signed by
Chino Moreno on the front - and my favorite skirt is a
BeBe crushed velvet cranberry number. I am the person that those
closet makeover shows were created for.
I'm just waiting for that
Fashion Emergency chick to show up at my door.