How Broke Bitches Insulate

Now if I’d known that, my winter clothes from Edinburgh would’ve survived. Alas, they were bought in California in the summer, and come spring they exploded off my body like confetti from a party popper. I have a box of heavy-hitting snowboarding gear … but that’s in London in the safekeeping of a friend. So, I’m left a barenaked lady on the eve of Hercules, the snowstorm that’s rockin’ my morning right now.

Last night, weather reports and general office chatter had me so paranoid that I’d perish under the snow that I had to request to leave early to haul ass to the nearest Uniqlo, on 5th Avenue. But because I’m an IDIOT and self-preservation isn’t a particular priority of mine, I only made it out of there with a pair of arm-length gloves because ZARA was having a ‘super sale’ next door, and I’d rather look good and freeze to death than look fat yet be properly insulated and protected from the elements. In all fairness, I still count myself smarter than the people queuing outside of Hollister in the blizzard flurry (as if douchey ‘California-style’ clothing is going to save you).

So, I’m actually open to interpretation on this one. My dad calls/emails/texts/Facebooks me every three minutes to make sure that I haven’t died yet. “Get WHATEVER you need to stay warm!”

On the plus side, I had such an obnoxious, public panic attack (in our office of 4) last night that I’m quite sure my boss will never fire me simply because he feels sorry for me, if nothing else.

Current outfit: socks that my dad undoubtedly stole from a hotel; leg warmers I bought in Bologna at Dimensione Danza, for kids; XL pajama pants that my aunt bought me for Christmas (easy, breezy, beautiful); Yogaworks t-shirt (free swag from the US Open of Surfing 2008); cashmere sweater that my mom gave me; tres expensive scarf I bought from ZARA that I’d been eye-ing for months, wrapped around my head like a hybrid Grace Kelly// turban// nun (How do you solve a problem like Maria?). About to put on some heat-tech leggings underneath the pajama pants (a little too breezy).

Who put the Glad in Gladiator?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s