elephants and cloudy days know what's up

E:  I hated sneakers. I’m sorry, I just did. I hated running shoes, tennis shoes; I never even got into the whole Converse trend. I even bought a pair of fly kicks (okay, they’re super fly Nike high tops with a light purple floral print that gracefully dances along the plain gray body of the shoe) but they have taken an almost permanent residency at Robin’s apartment. I just don’t wear them. I wear boots, I wear flats, and I wear sandals and the occasional moccasin but never anything with a functional lace. This hatred lasted until the fateful day when I found myself in the men’s department of Urban Outfitters staring at the most glorious Oxfords that have ever been crafted. I’m normally a very thrifty person and I don’t like to spend over twenty dollars on anything, but these beauties were worth their whopping selling price of seventy bucks. And now I wear them almost everyday. The soft gray goes with every color. The subtle stitching along the front and sides makes me orgasm. They add a little sass and class to every outfit. Jeans and a t? Instant haute couture. Ultra femme? Skip the heels! Much more approachable! These are more comfortable anyway. They are truly my favorite new item of clothing, or accessory rather, and I am elated that they found their way into my wardrobe. I now know after a year of wear, that they were worth every penny. (UO wingtops, white knee socks by HUE tights)

R: My sophomore and junior year roommates will attest to the fact that I compulsively borrow clothes.  While I generally find little shame in this practice, sometimes my conscience gets to me and I feel compelled to find my own versions of borrowed items.  I spent a good portion of October 2008 wrapped in my sophomore roommate’s oversized men’s sweaters.  Acquired from various Seattle thrift stores and her father’s closet these sweaters balanced out other fall staples: skinny jeans and fitted skirts.  Eventually, I felt compelled to dress at bit more from my side of the room so I struck out for the local Salvation Army in search of a booty of sweaters.  I didn’t find ‘a booty’ but I did find my favorite item of clothing to date: a heather gray sweater with umbrella emblazoned buttons.  Maybe it was just the gleam of the fluorescent lighting but there was something otherworldly about this sweater.  Since that fated day, I’ve purchased additional grampa sweaters.  None however, hold a candle to my first purchase.  This summer, the borrowing legacy continued as a dear friend wore ‘big gray’ religiously.  We found her her own one rainy day in Portland, Maine.  Just as in Walla Walla, the hands of fate seemed to bring girl and sweater together. (nine west shoes, arnold palmer cardigan (from walla walla!!!), roommate's dress, walla walla clothing (!!!) company earrings)