This morning was another of those mornings when I just wanted something loose and easy (unlike myself) so I pulled out this very plain black dress. I’ll let you in on a secret: it’s an op shop dress. OK, that’s not much of a secret in my wardrobe. I’ll let you in on another secret: it’s a maternity dress. I’ll let you in on one more secret: I bought it long after I gave birth to the mini-photographer and I can’t explain why. Although it’s comfy, it’s far too plain and shapeless to leave the house in. (I never, ever leave the house in all black.) So I popped on a cropped red cardigan from my big $20 bag of cardis from Edithvale Vinnies and my red MaryJanes from Kitty Deluxe, which always improve any outfit. And then I went that one step further and tied on a spotty scarf (from the op shop near St Albans station) at a jaunty angle, and all of a sudden I was transformed (at least in the ginger-photographer’s eye) into an air hostess.
Holding up my end of the bargain, I brushed on a new shade of dark blue eyeshadow. And this didn’t go unnoticed: my deskmate, who is usually loathe to remark on my outfits said “Oh! Yes! You’ve matched the colours on your face with your clothes!”
So for two days in a row I’ve dragged on a dress even when I didn’t feel like it, and I reckon maybe that could earn me a sponsorship. Could it be from you?