And then I cringe. Every morning getting ready for work, the cringe comes.
A lot of things in my early morning ritual are easy to blame on the excess heat in my over-winterized apartment. Such as...
Don't want to get out of bed = too warm and comfy.
Need an extra five minutes because I have to take a break from the sauna that is my apartment between the hot shower and blow dry.
Find it impossible to get dressed completely until I've got t-minus two seconds to walk out the door in fear I will die from heat exhaustion.
Check, check and check. All very reasonable excuses as to why I need a full hour and five minutes to get ready in the morning.
But one thing keeps me cringing every morning. Because I know I can't blame it on the heat.
My socks.
One of my greatest pet peeves in life is the dress/dark pants -- white socks -- dress shoes combo. Even if the pants are long enough to cover the offending socks so that nobody knows except the sock wearer.
There is a reason God invented dark socks and dress socks.
This past week, I have been the greatest offender there is.
It could be the fact that my box of socks is buried in the back of the closet, somewhere under the rubble that is my closet preparing to be in transit this Friday, and that the only thing I've been able to find is white socks lest I go on some Indiana Jones-like adventure every morning.
It could be the fact that my feet just aren't feeling the high heels these days, they want the loafers.
It could be the tiny hope that someone would call, 'What Not to Wear' on me and I'd get a whole new fancy schmancy wardrobe, merely based on the fact that I was offensive in my use of socks.
Or it could just be that I'm lazy. But I really don't want to think that at 23 I've peaked in terms of how much energy I'm willing to put in my fashion efforts. Let's just call it a laid-back day and hope that in the great move to Oak Creek Friday my non-white socks will be unearthed.
Otherwise I officially give y'all permission to "What Not to Wear" me.
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