Fashionista Freak Out

Life requires special outfits, in my opinion. It just does. Sure, you could play tennis in old Michigan basketball shorts and a tank top you bought in the little girls section at Old Navy three years ago, but it's just not gonna be the same as striding onto the court wearing a sassy navy and white tennis dress that shows off your perfect tan AND that can hold balls in the built in underwear. You gotta get the tennis dress, or the new strapless dress for your best friends wedding, or that hot brown bikini you've been wanting for three months that goes on sale right before you go to mexico. You just can't wear your old speedo on vacation!

And most of the time I pretend I'm not American Eagle's bitch and I just wear what I like. Although I find myself with weird clothing cravings that must be implanted into my brain at night by aliens, or Teen People or Jessica Simpson's dad or something. This spring I just had to have a gauzy green skirt. Three days later everyone else had one too. Weird. My most sincere hope is that somehow most of the time I have a style that is uniquely me and which doesn't just yell out "messy"! I once knew this girl that I hated for a long time and then she told me that I always had cute clothes and in my mind right at that moment I forgave for every wrong, ever, right there on the spot. The point is that overally I'm usually pretty happy with what I've cobbled together from the sale rack at the Gap and Ebay or whatever.

But then we went camping with Mr. E's sisters a few weeks ago and I realized I just don't own anywhere NEAR enough tank tops and my jeans are totally uncool and why don't I have Jessica Simpson headscarves and huge sunglasses and a tan the color of toasted almonds? I felt an overwhelming desire to buy yoga sweatpants and fleece jackets. My fashions were inadequate.

Next week we're going to New York City, the fashion Big Time, and I am only too aware that my closet is not up to the task. It's made worse by the fact that Mr. E's super cool freakishly trendy and up to the minute girl friends will be there. I am sure that one of them will be wearing a t shirt with a robot barfing on a dog or something with some jeans made of barbed wire or god knows what. Although she is the girl who tried to get me to read David Sedaris ten years after everyone else had discovered him, and I also take some satisfaction in knowing that at our wedding Mr. E made her wear what all the other bridesmaids were wearing even though she didn't want too because she was just TOO skinny to wear that and the best part is that by the way he also called her a sweater monkey. Awesome.

The point is that I have compiled a list.

What Every Reasonable Person Can Expect to Bring on A Trip to New York City in order to not look like a lamer Tourist from Nebraska or Other Midwestern States:

-one pair of cool black pants (don't have, am afraid may be hopeless, will hope for Target miracle)
-hot new jeans (don't have and won't be buying till reach goal weight as reward/threat to prevent getting fat again, will have to make do with sub par stretch American Eagle jeans).
-slutty yet classy black shirt (don't have, will obtain, thank you Anthropologie sale)
-one black cami with bra in it (don't have, will atttempt to obtain, curses to all stores who only carried this one item when I was fat and couldn't wear it and now are all "huh? What is this cami with bra you speak of?")
-one black tight ribbed tank top (don't have, will obtain)

it's not looking good on the jeans or pants front but will hope for Miracle of the Black Pants. Is too late to hope for Miracle of $25 Ebay Citizens of Humanity Jeans.