Dress Regrets

It’s so wild to think that a year ago I was gearing up for our wedding. I was perusing websites, gathering more ideas, sticking stamps to invitations and fretting over details like escort cards, which we didn’t use. Maybe because I’m a girl and slightly crazy, but occasionally I still think about what I wish I’d done differently or went differently. I loved our wedding so I have no idea why I dwell on the things that I cannot change. Like the dress I wore to the rehearsal dinner.

Sometime last spring, my cousin asked me if I was going crazy and buying new clothes for everything. I prided myself in how simple things were and how I was watching money since we paid for part of the event. I had a bright green dress that I liked a lot, and said, “Nope. I’m going to wear a dress I already have.” And I did.

Before I criticize myself any further, I will remind myself I was super sick, pumped full of antibiotics and praying I felt better for the actual wedding day (I did). All I wanted to do was to lay in bed and have my mom wait on me, but we had a town full of guests and lots of events planned so I had to rally and drag my sick ass self to get my nails done, throw a luncheon and host a pre-wedding barbeque/rehearsal dinner.

I look back on the pictures and think, “Why didn’t I have my hair done for the rehearsal dinner? A simple blow-out would have look TONS better than that frizzy pouff on my head.” Note to self: If an event centers around you (baby shower), spend the time and money on a blow-out! (Yes, I live in LA.)

In the few hours between the luncheon and the rehearsal/barbeque, I lay around on the couch, sipped hot ginger tea in 90 degree weather and wished yet again that I didn’t have to drag myself to a party filled with people I hadn’t seen in years who were coming to see me. I mean, I wanted to see them; I just wanted to feel good.

But what I really wonder is why I let my cousin’s comment stop me from buying an absolutely fabulous dress. I guess I keep thinking about this because wedding season is upon us, and I see great potential rehearsal dinner dresses everywhere. Maybe it has something to do with the fact I can’t buy them now to wear because of the bun in my oven. Maybe I’m just fantasizing because in a year, I’ll probably be covered in baby snot and baby puke and baby diapers and the idea of wearing a stunning dress will be a faint memory or a future fantasy.

We are going to a wedding a two weeks. I found a cute dress at the Gap that I can wear with these strappy silver sandals I already have, and when my pregnant self can’t handle them anymore, I can put on silver flip flops. I think I’ll look fabulous, or at least semi-fabulous.

An Autumn Poo

I moved to Los Angeles five years and 4 months ago to work in fashion. FASHION, people! Not entertainment where I currently work and could care less about. FASHION! And currently, I could care less about that, too.

When I started my job I was determined not to look like an assistant. This meant no obvious all Gap or Forever 21 outfits. This meant classic, well-cut trousers, expensive shoes (expensive for an assistant). This meant no boring, lame-ass outfits. I might be an assistant, but I could look like an executive. This was my mindset.

Currently, my division has changed to one more closely related to Silicon Valley than Hollywood, and slowly the attire in the department has slid closer to Silicon Valley than Hollywood. This means instead of casual Friday, we have casual Tuesday through Friday and sometimes even casual Monday. I wear a lot of denim and flats. I live in t-shirts (Club Monaco makes a great one for only $22 vs. the James Perse ones I like that are $48). It’s so casual around my office now that when I put on a very current pencil skirt, heels and stylish sweater, my boss asked where I was going later (an interview? Dinner? Why oh why did she shun the denim today?). It just didn’t make sense.

So, I’m wondering, when I dress like a poo, am I depressed or do I just not care anymore? Or does not caring anymore mean I’m depressed? It’s so confusing. Not only do I not look like an excutive, I look like a poo. An autumn poo from Banana Republic. What happened????
Please excuse the camera strap. I'm learning how to use a new camera and the other shot came out worse.