Blog Confession #1

I have little to no fashion sense.

See, I feel I have to confess this, because I was just blog-browsing, and read some recent posts over at Mighty Girl, posts written by someone more successful, more popular, more pregnant, and much much more fashionable than I am. See, she has this site that highlights fashionable goods and she had this one blog entry about a hideously ugly necklace, and how she and her friend tried to imagine who would make such a thing. And here's where I have to say:
I have made ugly jewelry.
I haven't gone so far as to wear any of it, but I've created many monstrosities and tried to convince myself these items were good-looking, as though somehow anything I've put so much time into must be worth the effort.

My formative teen years were spent in the "grunge era" when jeans, a short- or long-sleeve shirt, and a flannel shirt were my wardrobe from 6th grade to around Junior year of college.
I've stepped it up since then*, but I now find it draining to "put together outfits" for work or for going out. To the point where a few months ago, I spent a few hours laying out different outfits on the bed and taking digital photos of them so I could just look up an outfit to wear instead of standing at the closet feeling tired and dumpy. This idea, for those of you considering it, should only be undertaken if you can establish a crackerjack cross-index, for easy look-up on outfits. I tried to create this in Picasa, using the colors and seasons for each outfit as labels, but f-ing Picasa is in beta, so its program is all overhauled and what used to be Labels is now something like Albums or Discontinued or something.

Also, photo-indexing outfits TOTALLY DOESN'T HELP when none of your pants fit and only half your tops fit. I'm back to square one on this. Also unhelpful is having 2/3s of your wardrobe in the laundry basket.

*It's important that I note that "stepping it up" is by comparison to before. I still have little fashion sense, but am discovering more and more that about half of my clothing is kind of boring and dumpy. Problem is, I've reached my caring threshold: I just don't care enough to fix the situation. I'll eventually weed out the offenders through a one-in-one-out policy, but otherwise, I can't be bothered.