Today I am placing coordinated clothing in my ‘fuck it’ list. Actually I’m placing ‘giving a shit’ in it, but that’s a bit general & would probably be the end of my blogging. So being a bit more specific we’ll go with clothing.
Don’t get me wrong, I love getting dressed up. I love makeup (wouldn’t be seen dead without it but that’s more of a public service than vanity) & perfume. I love having my nails painted & all of that malarkey, but some days I just can’t be arsed. And since hitting my 40’s; I don’t care either! This is the usual status of my hands; chipped nail polish & enamel.
And as for my outfits? Today was a ‘Bollocks I forgot to do the washing!’ kind of day. I have always been a bit of a clothing rebel in so much as yesterday was a polka dot tights kind of day & I always try & mismatch something. It is the rebel in me fighting the constraints of normality without the risk of being arrested (unless of course the fashion police turn up). Today there wasn’t an ounce of rebel, just a desire to get to the Post Office as quickly as possible & back home again.
So, I went out in public with my hands as above & black jeans, white Converse & a completely unrelated pink jumper. There is probably still a pyjama vest under it too. Coordinated. Not a chance. Fucks? None given.
I actually genuinely don’t care anymore. With a backlog of orders, chores & everything else I am meant to squeeze into 24 hours, it is lucky I ever get out of my pyjamas, let alone put a matching outfit on.
So today caring about coordinated clothing is in the list, because life is just too busy to care. Embrace the uncoordinated!