The Thought Process of Getting Dressed
It’s 7:45? That’s annoying, I thought I’d be out of bed by 7:30. Now I definitely won’t have time to fix my hair, which means I probably shouldn’t try to wear that blue knee length knit dress – the one with the very dramatic deep v neck and skimpy spaghetti strap sleeves, which tends to look good only when my hair is both perfectly straight and chaotically stringy. So what now? I guess technically speaking I could quickly fix my hair but now that I think about it, I wanted to wear that open neck dress because of that gold necklace, which I already determined doesn’t look as good as it should with this dress, so I’d rather wear separates anyway.
Bed head it is.
Holy macaroon seed! It’s 91 degrees out? Smells like linen party suit USA to me. But that’s too easy. It’s the first day back post Labor Day, I’d like to exude at least the impression that I attempted to try — you know, like I respect the work week, or whatever. So, maybe it’s about that sequined racer back top from H&M that came into the office two weeks ago, which I put on with my high waist ripped jeans? I felt pretty cool that day.
Ah, but I have a doctor’s appointment uptown at 9:30 and the reason I’m up this early is so that I can walk there. Duh. It’s 89 blocks away so sneakers seem like a non-negotiable here. I guess I will start from there and make my way up. You know what’s been a really reliable outfit? That white Rosie Assoulin crop top with the poppy Yves Saint Laurent shorts. I wore that the last time it felt this hot. Yeah, let me try that on.
Mmhmm, still as good as I remember it. The shorts feel a little snug though. Actually, I think they always hit me like this. But, oh, weird with sneakers. Why do my knees look like this in some shorts? What a weird length. I should probably just wear my clogs again. But I can’t walk 89 blocks in wood heels, that would be like trying to brush my teeth with a swiss army knife. Or something. How about these slides? These are cute, I walked to Soho House in them last night and that was fine? But Soho House is 15 blocks away, Leandra. I think this always boils down to the fact that you’re too impulsive. Think long term. Think about how you’re going to feel once you hit 20th street and realize that the subsequent 69 blocks are going to obliterate your feet if you don’t get into a cab and then remember how much you hate cabs.
Sneakers, Leandra. Sneakers. But if I’m going to wear sneakers, I really ought to change. So is it about a pair of denim cut offs? Ugh that’s so obvious. I feel like something skimpy. Something delicate to offset the black Nikes pervading my feet. How about a slip dress? Do I have a slip dress? There’s that one Miu Miu nightgown I got as a gift. I can put on black high waist underwear under and a matching bra, that never seems like a bad idea. Ooooh, and it will look good with that necklace! But, eh, it’s shin-length and realistically speaking, how many mornings of naked legs do I have ahead of me? Think underwear.
I’m thinking underwear.
Oh! How about this satin Lisa Perry spaghetti strap dress? It’s not quite as flimsy as my mental conception wants it to be but I love the neckline and it’s certainly short enough. Pockets! I always forget this dress has pockets. Pockets are the life of the party. Like that friend who shows up to book club with a bottle of tequila. Man, this dress is a good one. And I’ll tell you what else, it pairs better with Nike Frees than any number of shoes I’ve previously worn with it.
This is also kind of perfect because I have an event right after work. Maybe I take some heels in a bag and change into them? But I don’t need to wear heels to that event. I’ll just take some brogues. Yeah, that’s a nice marriage of feminine, barely-there mini dress and menswear style lace up loafers. Yeah. Okay, it’s 8:01. I should leave. Back pack? Purse-purse? No, no, neither. They’re going to weigh my arms down, how many power walkers do you see lugging shit around? I’m going to take this fanny pack with me. But then what about the shoes for later?
Whatever, I’ll just come home after work.
Come on, Leandra, you know yourself. You are not going home after work.
Why not? I can do it. If I just tell myself there is no other option, I will do it.
You will also stress yourself out so greatly that you’ll probably miss your period again and then you know what will happen? We’ll find ourselves right here, back at square A, getting dressed and contemplating footwear for a day that starts way uptown.
Against your will.
At a doctor’s office.
Yeah, I’m gonna take my shoes in a bag. But you know what? I kind of definitely want to wear that knit dress. Let me just change real quick.
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