I'm headed back down south this weekend for a good friend's wedding, and let's be frank, my share of Sonic happy hours, Chick-fil-a milkshakes, driving as much as I can, and I would say relaxing but seeing as how I am technically unemployed, I might need to work on elevating my heart rate.
The wedding is undoubtedly my first priority as the occasion marks a reunion of not only my Memphis friends but also my college friends. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that people (those not living in New York) expect us (those living in New York) to somehow become more stylish, more self-possessed, able to pull off foolish trends with remarkable aplomb.
Thankfully, I won't be wearing harem jeggings (if there are such a thing, I'm sure only Kate Moss can pull them off) to make what is essentially, my post-collegiate debut. But I still haven't found anything.
Except this:
Pink! Leopard print! One shoulder! And, the one I really want (and couldn't find a photo) but would have to live in Grand Central for a couple of months is loooonnnggg, to the floor.
But isn't it Pretty-with-a-capital-P? The long dress really brings out the inner-grandmother-in-Boca in me who would like nothing better than to lounge around in floor length caftans and red lipstick while listening to Marvin Gaye, sipping on gin and tonics while neglecting the household duties.
In the meantime, PRESSURE ON. And: heart rate elevated.
