The Canadian Tuxedo

Chambray: H&M | Jeans: J.Crew | Flats: Steve Madden Vegass | Tote: Target | Belt: stolen from Boyfriend | Necklace: eBay | Watch: Fossil | Cuff: Anthro | Earrings: Target

This is in no way intended as a slam on Canada. In fact, I spend an inordinate amount of time pining away for the glory days of Justin and Britney. Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about. My only regret is that I couldn't do more - if anyone has denim underwear (preferably unused, but let's face it, beggars can't be choosers) or some kind of denim headgear to spare, let's just say I'm not above donations.

P.S. Girl you bet your sock bun I blurred my laundry pile in the mirror.

I Fought the Law

What do you get when you take a law student, strip her of her budget, subtract her will to live, add ten thousand pounds of books and multiply it by five classes?
Sweatpants. And credit card debt.
(This blog is my effort to bust out of both.)

Everything gets more complicated when you consider that I went from sharing a house with sixty girls (not a brothel) to sharing a house with two girls with wildly different closets to sharing an apartment with Boyfriend, who, God love him and his full-spectrum rainbow of Ralph Lauren polos, has never answered yes to the question "is this dress too short?" Helpful, babe. Endlessly helpful.

You know how the old saying goes: I got 99 problems but female input/disposable income/a career in a creative field with a high tolerance for fun clothes ain't one. Oh that's not how it goes? Sorry Jay.