I was heading into Newtown for a coffee date with a friend the other night and thought I’d inject a bit of colour into the world.
I started with taking the Kenneth Cole’s out for their first spin.
The orange jeans were screaming to be let out, and seriously, who was I to argue?
The shirt really was a no-brainer.
Once it was all together, I thought the outfit looked great and I was feeling confidently conspicuous.
Until I walked out the front door.
That little voice spoke up from way back in the depths, starting to question whether I really did look that good.
Incessantly asking didn’t I look fat in the elevator mirror?
As I slid into the car, it fairly screamed at me not to leave. To run back upstairs and change into something less bold, more safe, more fat reducing even!
I ignored it and started driving.
Did the voice stop?
No, my dear Occasional Reader, it did not.
I got ten minutes up the road, almost to Newtown in fact, when it finally got to me.
That little voice managed to convince me that I looked disgustingly fat and I was an idiot if I got out of the car looking like this.
I quickly did a U-turn and sped back home.
I ran upstairs, and wouldn’t you know it, as I walked past the bathroom mirror, I thought, “Hey, you don’t look so bad after all.”
I had already driven all the way back, so regardless, I was getting changed.
I put on my trusty cheese buying outfit, and hot footed it back to Newtown, hating the little voice for making me late.
I hate being late. Especially when it’s caused by imaginary voices.
I wish I had stuck with the orange jeans though…
Shoes – Kenneth Cole New York
Jeans – Arthur Galan
Shirt – Brooksfield
