The verdicts are plum: yes, and gray: definitely no.
I'm also stomping around - yes, it's been that kind of day - in LL Bean brogues. With a four inch heel (my non-arches hurt). And you know what is so ironic? When I googled "LL Bean Brogue" to find a picture to show you...
...photos of gray nails showed up on the same page!
I must have stumbled upon some kind of look! And I like that feeling from time to time, but these times are spaced few and far between. Because, for the most part, the feeling I like most is looking and acting like boring old me. And boring me wears comfier shoes and rosier nails.
The fact of the matter is, I am decidedly not a trendy person. At all. Is trendy even the right word here? Adventurous? Fashionable? Hip? With it?
No, I'm not.
My favorite music belongs either in Irish pubs or at Woodstock. Like, Gaelic Storm and Crosby, Stills and Nash type stuff. Yes, really. I like John Denver a lot too. The Beatles are always good. C'mon, you know you love America's "Muskrat Love"! The upside to this lifelong affanity for 60s and 70s music is that I always had something to discuss with my friend's parents. Cool, right?
I still have a soft spot for crappy club music from my high school days - Britney and Usher, you know, junk pop. But even then, I wouldn't want to listen to "club music" in an actual club.
I love to dance and I love to drink, but I don't like nightclubs at all. Well, at least the three or so I've been in. One time a guy burned my wildly swinging arm by accident with his cigarrette (right???) and was too drunk to realize it when I stopped my sweet dance moves and shot him some serious eye-daggers. It's just not my scene.
The more I think about it, the more I would probably hate Vegas.
And clothes... oh, clothes. In cooler weather, I am at my best and most comfortable in a tunic sweater, black leggings, and ballet flats or riding boots. That just sounds like heaven!
Boy, is Kyle thrilled that I have such affection for a look perhaps best exemplified by Medieval serfs.
I think my mid-life crisis will probably be quite extreme, because I've actually spent most of my life as an 86 year old woman (or Black Plague type boy, take your pick). In short, I will become Regina's mother...
"Soooo....what is up? Whats the 411? What has everybody been up to? What's the hot gossip? Tell me everything. What have you guys been listening to? What are the cool jams?"
For now, though, I think I'll go brew myself a cup of tea and put my slippers on.