It's the thick of January. We've been breezing through 20 degree days, but today was definitely an "I am January, hear me ROAR" kind of day with its brisk below zero weather.
I have an amazing cold for which I must take drugs that require me to show my driver's license and sign forms, letting me know that the federal government will be monitoring my use of said drugs. Something about how I won't be using them in a meth lab.
I am at that time of year where I don't care how I look, so long as I am warm. And from what I can tell in my surveillance at the grocery store, others subscribe to this same notion. Dark, beefy jackets insulate hardy Chicagoans from the bitter temps. Plus, the jackets hide the flub-flub from December's Christmas cookies. It's win-win.
But on this particular chilly evening, I am being encouraged to join my husband at his company's New Year celebration. I think it's really a Christmas party that's really, really late, but that's just me.
For a few hours, I will learn to suppress my cold symptoms and my lack of feel-sexiness to meet my husband's boss and coworkers.
This feat will require a vast amount of aforementioned drugs and, AND, a really cute outfit to mask the glazed look in my eyes.
Enter dress and shoes.
This Christmas my hubs bought me this amazing vintage style dress. I felt so lovely that he would even CONSIDER buying me a dress on his own accord. He will admit that I dropped a fairly heavy hint, but to my defense: I drop hints all the time. :)
And then, because all I had were dowdy winter dress shoes, I bought these. I mean, sweet mercy, how could I resist the ruffles. On shoes. And on sale.
What's more, studies show that if you wear beautiful clothes when you feel lousy, you'll feel 67% less lousy.
So wish me luck, friends.
And if you're feeling a little punk, put on your favorite necklace, taking care to not let it touch your Vapor-Rub on your face and chest. You'll feel much better.