So I was thinking about starting to post photos of some thrift store outfits and get feedback from readers.I'd be all: "brown boots-- $7.50, sweater-- $4.00, Ann Taylor Loft jeans-- 6.00, Bracelet-- 50 cents" and you'd be all: "Looks great! Don't feel bad that you spend $28.00 on jeans for your nine year old daughter but buy used clothes for yourself. You're looking f-i-n-e."
But I couldn't quite master the whole "taking a picture into a mirror thing," so I asked my 11 year old if he could pry himself from the computer for 5 seconds to take a picture. Whine. Complain. Huff. Puff.
He took this pretty much from Siberia, so if you want to get out a magnifying glass you can see my outfit. Fortunately the distance also shrinks the laundry piled up on the couch.
Then I decided to try what every woman aged 7 and up is doing these days-- and tuck my boots into my jeans.
Then I decided to try what every woman aged 7 and up is doing these days-- and tuck my boots into my jeans.
My jeans aren't "skinny jeans" and the boots have an unconventional zipper situation, so this was harder than it might seem. To gain leverage, I had the audacity to sit on the couch.
THIS did not sit well with Shadow the Dog. Notice the glowing red eyes of the Devil's Spawn:
You see it was 4:18 and she eats dinner at 5. If I dare sit down between the hours of 4 and 5, she torments me by climbing on me and barking until I feed her. Yes, this is the dog we got instead of having a 3rd child. Waah.
You see it was 4:18 and she eats dinner at 5. If I dare sit down between the hours of 4 and 5, she torments me by climbing on me and barking until I feed her. Yes, this is the dog we got instead of having a 3rd child. Waah.So as I tried to shove my boot-cut jeans INSIDE the boot, I had a stinky fish-breath dog all up in my business.
My son, The Reluctant Photographer, suddenly got the undeniable urge to document:
While she may look semi-innocent standing on the floor in the rest of these photos, please KNOW that when my son pressed the button on the camera for each picture, the dog was on my lap. By the time the pictures took, I had shoved her ungently to the floor. BTW, who put my mother's hands in these pictures?
Tail wagging. Happy to torment:
Looks can be deceiving:
Going in for the next lunge:
Get out of my crotch! How long does it take to put on a stinking boot?
This smile is fake. I am not amused.
Losing my will to go on. Does the dog look guilty?
I have an idea. Maybe if I just drink my tea she'll go away.
Fat chance. OUT! I AM SO SICK OF THIS DOG!
GO!
FINE! I give up. I will never sit down again. You win. Why don't you just eat yourself into a vomitous stupor?!
Here's the final pic, with one boot on and blurry.
Not that you can see the boot anyway. Sheesh.
Oh what we endure for the sake of fashion.
While she may look semi-innocent standing on the floor in the rest of these photos, please KNOW that when my son pressed the button on the camera for each picture, the dog was on my lap. By the time the pictures took, I had shoved her ungently to the floor. BTW, who put my mother's hands in these pictures?
Tail wagging. Happy to torment:
Looks can be deceiving:
Going in for the next lunge:
Get out of my crotch! How long does it take to put on a stinking boot?
This smile is fake. I am not amused.
Losing my will to go on. Does the dog look guilty?
I have an idea. Maybe if I just drink my tea she'll go away.
Fat chance. OUT! I AM SO SICK OF THIS DOG!
GO!
FINE! I give up. I will never sit down again. You win. Why don't you just eat yourself into a vomitous stupor?!
Here's the final pic, with one boot on and blurry.Not that you can see the boot anyway. Sheesh.
Oh what we endure for the sake of fashion.
