A year or so ago I decided that I wasn’t going to buy a single wardrobe addition that was brown or black. I have mostly stuck to that resolution by not buying much at all. Salubrious for the bank account, deleterious to the rewards account. The situation really comes to a head at this particular season (ed–this was written September), when trying to choose a dating outfit. The conversation between Me, Myself, and I goes something like this:
Me: Well, I can just wear the turquoise beaded top with the white eyelet skirt.
I: Dearie, Labor Day was two weeks ago. No white skirts.
Me: Why not? The weather is hot. I see no reason to abide by arbitrary rules possibly invented by the defunct civilization known as the Old South. Also, all our summer skirts are white, more or less.
Myself: Well we can’t wear a white skirt. It’s a daytime stroll date. What if we sit down on a dirty bench? He’ll spend the whole rest of the date trying not to notice the seat mark. And it will be a super pain to wash out.
Me: Well that what am I going to wear?! I can’t wear brown – it’s not fall enough. And the tan would also get dirty, and I don’t want to wear brown.
Myself: Chillax. What about that dark blue sweater we found for that silhouette print skirt?
I: No way! Winds supposed to be gusting at 45 mph or something. That skirt is too full and light to handle that gracefully. We’ll spend the whole date with our hands in a modest Marilyn Monroe imitation.
Me: I’m gonna cry. Why did I ask for a daytime date? Why didn’t I push it off until the leaves started changing?
Myself: [soothingly] We’re not at the bottom of the drawer yet. What about that sky blue sweater with the 3/4 sleeves?
Me: The only thing I can wear with that is a black skirt or the gray, but the gray is too corporate.
Myself: What’s wrong with corporate? Ten to one he shows up in a suit… [sees Me’s face] Okaaay… black then. We’ve got loads of those. How ’bout this one?
Me: Too dressy. This is a casual date. Or, as casual as a first date can get.
I: How about that one?
Myself: That one is a classic example of where buying one size too large isn’t the solution. Nix it.
Me: So, winds considered, how about a long skirt?
I: It’s a first date!
Myself: Yeah, but in a park. Doesn’t he expect us to do any running over hill and dale? We can’t show up in a pencil skirt.
I: Weren’t you looking for a nice casual skirt to replace that great one that got worn out in the wash?
Me: [glumly] Looking. That was the key word. I don’t have a replacement.
Myself: Listen, he’s a guy. Do you really think he cares what you wear? Does he have any sisters? I’m sure he’ll understand.
I: [cheerily] Oldest of six boys. And don’t forget that other guy who kvetched to the shadchan that we weren’t dressed up enough for a daytime date to a museum. We were pretty well turned out for that one, I thought.
Myself: Just goes to show, you can’t win. So why bother? I’m still rooting for this one here. [Tugs at skirt]
Me: [falls backwards onto bed and moans into hands]
Myself: [Throws a comforting arm around Me] Hey, Me. You didn’t even want to go out with this guy, remember? So if he doesn’t like your skirt, big deal. He should have chosen a better first date location. Strike one for both teams. try it on, okay?
Me: [Wailing] I don’t understand how I can have so much clothing and nothing to wear.
I: Pshaw. That’s the Feminine Condition. Get used to it. There. That doesn’t look too corporate after all. It’ll do.
Myself: A little bland… [Sees Me’s expression], but yes, I think it’ll do.
Me: Good. I’m going to sleep. No, I’m going to blog.