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Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Don't I Look Cute Today: last night's date outfit

A rainy evening out calls for the right look. Something that honors the need to be dry but shines with an extra dose of cheekiness. Something eye saturating to turn the attention away from being soaking wet. Dressed in graphic circle print Ben Sherman dress shirt, blue tweed vest from Urban Outfitters and my fave vintage black boots (unzipped, of course) and black GAP skinnies, I look the part.

Before my date, I go with Miss M to the local karaoke bar/tiny gallery for a photo opening celebrating its one year anniversary featuring photos of all its regulars. That be me. And my roommate, Mr. G. Don't we look cute in our photos? Doing our best Linda Evangelista.

While Miss M and I throw back a celebratory shot with the bar staff, I smell something funky. Oh great my pleather doctor bag I've had for years is cooking on the radiator. Why did I think that was a good place to lay my belongings? Jeepers. Now a small burn adorns my bag. Battle wounds earned everday, folks!

Post Pat Benatar belt, I run to meet my date. A crazy tall German guy awaits me. Jumpin' jacks, what do they feed you in Germany?! And I'm wearing my heels. Sigh, the plight of the little guy. Nonetheless I catch his stature when he stands to greet me. Nice touch. Points to you, Germy. We have relaxed and "cheeky enough" banter over seitan and salad and the evening is going smoothly. That is until he flatly states in his clean lines German minimalism way his lack of faith in relationships. "They never work. What relationship do you know that lasts?" Umm, hi... your date here. Why am I here?

Incredulous of love and I eat and then go to a bar for a drink. Two more drinks actually at the open vodka bar we crashed. I love that this is his idea of picking up the tab. He proudly confesses to being a cheap skate. Umm, you think? Lucky for you, Germy, I'm not bougie.

A quick peck after he walks me home and I scamper into Mr. G and the cat.

Mr. G: how was the date?

Me: I think I made a new friend.

Oh but then Germy texts me to set up a 2nd date. Ok, I'll bite. My brain knows this is just fun. No pressure. No expectations. It's a nice distraction and I can do "no investment". And I'll look cute doing it!

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I'm a fashion writer who writes for Bluefly, EDGE Media, VIRAL Fashion, etc. I use "It Can't All Be Dior" as a safe release for my love of coats, cats and cake. Phew!