IN WHICH THIS OUTFIT WAS INSPIRED BY A COUCH, SO I GUESS MY BRAIN IS A FULL-FLEDGED PINTEREST BOARD
Fellow tightwads, a thing to know about me: I am somewhat allergic to color coordination. There’s something about looking, uhm, what do you called it? Pulled together? Yes, there’s something about looking PULLED TOGETHER that screams ‘adulthood’ and ‘responsibility’ so loudly that my eyes can’t help but water and my skin involuntarily produces hives at its mere possibility. As I creep further and further into the real world, I find that there is one antidote that subdues the symptoms. No, dear friends, Benadryl isn’t the answer: it’s playing with restricting options. Truth be told, not much scares me (closet-wise!) more than not being able to play with my wardrobe. I’ve been working consistently in an office environment for the past eight months and if I’ve learned ANYTHING interning, it’s this: if you can make office attire look good, you can conquer EVERYTHING. I’ve been introducing this mindset into other life-y ventures (ahem, just my wardrobe) to get better at facing my fears. As you can see, I clearly have my ish together because one of my biggest fears is wearing colors that are compatible. Oh, priorities, I hardly knew (Kan)ye.
Anyway, dear friends, that brings me to this outfit. The challenges: 1) incorporating my new boots into the equation at all costs and 2) keeping warm on a chilly night. The first solution: wearing one of my only clean sweaters with said boots. The hindrance: blue jeans just weren’t cutting it—I felt too drab. The other solution: MATCHING. The other hindrance: MATCHING SUCKS. The other other solution: mental mood boards. For real. I am like a human Pinterest board, ya’ll. I won’t go into detail, but this post’s title will give you a taste of how I got here. I (kind of) creatively played with my options and came up with something that made me really happy!
Then again, striped sweaters will never NOT make me happy, and it appears that Tumblr agrees with me:
So, uh, here’s a brokedown that will probably be made repinnable, coming to a Pinterest board near you (I had to create one for work, ya’ll):
Grand total, sans tax and a color(block) out of place: ~$34.80
Fellow tightwads, have a splendid week! If you need me, you know where to find me: in the back of the boutique, perusing the ‘final sale only’ racks.
IN WHICH I AM ONLY CONSISTENT WHILE INCONSISTENTLY REFERRING TO ALL OF YOU AS “ONE” AND “YOU,” SO, UH, SORRY FOR THAT ONE, YOU
Fellow tightwads, when a man or a woman really loves themselves, it’s hard not to pay attention to them. Sometimes their acts of self-love are obnoxious; sometimes these acts are empowering; and sometimes these acts are better saved for the privacy of their own homes. And then sometimes I make subtly crude jokes on my blog that I hope I can ever live down. Internet archives, how you livin’?
Anyway, dear friends, sometimes these bursts of identity emit pheromones so irresistible to members of whichever gender ya’ll are trying to attract that one can’t dodge the date requests. (And sometimes I set phasers exclusively to ‘run-on sentences.’ Sorry!) When this happens, one’s newfound confidence may skyrocket, perhaps leading you to be a bit more invested in your wardrobe. That’s all good and well, but it just isn’t currently true for this tightwad, dear friends. Nay, this is not a belated Valentine’s Day post where I recap what I wore on my big night out. Nah. (I FOOLED YOU!) I just have this weird thing where I just really like myself and stuff, so I forgo ‘occasion appropriateness’ and bust out outfits that make me happy all the time. Dear friends, this is actually a post in which I urge you to do the same!
It’s a strange concept, really: wearing things simply to impress myself? What is this madness? How does she even get up in the morning? Not easily, but that’s not because of the aforementioned concept. (I drink coffee and digress.) Nay, dear friends, I’ve found that anytime I’m in an outfit rut—and, with this budget, that happens more often than not—it’s super helpful to challenge myself this way. Also, dressing only for myself is such a simply achieved self-confidence spike. I guess you could say I’m dating myself! Also, myself and I are in a relationship and it’s totally complicated, but like, I just can’t let go, ya know? This wardrobe thing spices things up a bit.
Anywho, here’s a brokedown worthy of only the finest half-priced chocolates Target had to offer the day after Valetine’s Day:
Grand total, sans tax and a best photo booth picture Oscar statuette (topical!): ~$76
Also, I would like to point out that I don’t blow dry my hair and I didn’t have enough time to let it settle before taking these photos. Oops. In case you were wondering, here is how my hair ended up that day:
Not too shabby! Protip: If your hair is malleable yet limp like mine, try curling it with your fingers after you shower. I twist my thin hair into four medium-sized sections, consistently tightening the twists as they air dry. This saves time, energy and your hair from heat damage. I learned this from my best fraind (Drescher) and I will never go back!
Fellow tightwads, I’ve missed you dearly. I’m working on another new post, so watch out for it! If you need me, you know where to find me: in the back of the boutique, perusing the ‘final sale only’ racks.
IN WHICH I DON’T LET A LITTLE SIZING ISSUE STOP ME FROM BEING THE DEFENDER OF GOING OUT INTO THE DARK AT (K)NIGHT
Fellow tightwads, there are three things you should know about me: my dog, Kanye West, and Batman. These are three things I can never say no to, ever, and three things I care about very much. The first two are understandable, though, given that my dog is my baby and Kanye is my marital partner. Batman, however, is an entirely different story. Unlike marriage and family, I have never had an obligation* to loving the comics and adoring the movies. This obsession translates into an inability to pass up any merchandise that I cross paths with.
My compulsion recently bought me a STELLAR bat signal t-shirt in a men’s size small.
“Huzzah,” I said to myself, pawing through the Target men’s section. “I can deal with an oversized tee shirt. Why even bother trying it on, it’s such a perfect little snowflake,” I told myself as I absorbed the foam excreting from my lips with my sleeve. “It is delightful and it will be my companion from now until forever.”
And a wonderful companion it is. I am so enveloped by my relationship with my new shirt that, well….I’m absolutely enveloped by my shirt! As you can see, I sort of drown in it. But what’s a girl to do? Return such a striking sight? NAY, dear friends. This girl fashioned her companion into the mini dress of a lifetime. And with that, a brokedown that will never breakdown, despite the curveball life throws it. (Or its parents…).
So, uh…you wanna know how I got these
scars scores? :
Grand total, sans tax and a Harvey Dent of my own to believe in: $49.80 (Where’d YOU learn to count?)
Well, dear friends, until next time…if you need me, you know where to find me: in the back of the boutique, perusing the ‘final sale only’ racks…in Gotham, though, obviously. And if that doesn’t work…feel free to take a cue from my shirt and alert me in a similar fashion.
*I would like to clarify that I do not feel obligated to love my dog. He is honestly the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. Not to be a THAT kind of pet owner, but spending time away from him is painful. Living hundreds of miles away from him is terribly difficult and I hope he never thinks otherwise. I was merely making a bad joke about marriage. Merp.
IN WHICH I’VE BEEN LIVING IN SWEATPANTS, SO PLEASE PARDON THE LACK OF UPDATES
Fellow tightwads, please forgive me, re: updating and re: comma abuse, as I finish up the first of my last two semesters of college ever.
I completed my final final last night, which explains why I haven’t updated in three weeks (whoops!). In the final stretches of finals, I always wish that I could host 24/7 screenings of the inside of my eyelids or hook up caffeine IVs to my veins, but both of those options always seem to be out of stock (shopping joke!!!!! Because I’m back!!!!). Since neither of those notions are attainable, I usually have to choose between my homework and watching cute animal clips on youtube. I’m very fortunate for the quality of my education, so what better way to acknowledge my privilege than to waste it by watching foxes licking windows or corgis running on treadmills?
Let the record show that I never refused to acknowledged how fortunate I am for the quality of my favorite youtube videos, dear friends. Trivial privilege: checked. Feels good to get that off my chest! I guess, sometimes, we just have to get by through pounding Red Bulls and clicking the next link that exploits the adorableness of the animal kingdom. Or, like, writing papers and whatever.
Anyway, dear friends, finals are over. I have absolutely no excuses anymore. Wait, no, that can’t be right. My dog ate my laptop?
…And, without further ado, I present to you a brokedown that is well-versed in late night coffee runs, early morning red bulls and not a whole lot of sleep:
Grand total, sans tax and a normal sleep shedule: $58
Fun fact: I only ordered that top because it was part of Wet Seal’s bi-daily (or whatever) BOGO For a Penny sale, only to find out 10 minutes later that its paired item was out of stock. Couldn’t have told me that BEFORE confirming my order, huh? Damn you, Wet Seal! I should’ve known not to trust you after what you did to my dear friend Buster Bluth! (Or whatever.)
Anyway, dear friends, I know that this is a stressful time for all of us. I sincerely hope that each source of your worries, whether they be academic, financial or holiday season-related, are resolved in due time. Keep in mind that, ultimately, hardly any of this will truly matter and that we aren’t saving lives. Well, unless you currently ARE saving lives, in which case I urge you to get the eff outta my blog because WHAT ARE YOU DOING I AM FLATTERED BUT PLEASE CONTINUE WHAT YOU WERE UP TO BEFORE YOU IRRESPONSIBLE MONSTER THERE ARE HEROIC ACTS TO BE HAD ARE YOU SERIOUS?.
Uhm, ahem. Chin up, friends. You’ll pull through. I swear.
If you need me, you know where to find me: in the back of the boutique, perusing the “final sale only” racks.
I was featured in the college newspaper’s online edition!
I really don’t do much in it, but just in case you’re interested, my wonderful friend Elizabeth is just as talented of a writer as she is a thrifter. Check it out!