I have a skirt. It isn't a very nice skirt. I'm fairly certain Sara would hate it when she sees it, actually. It's a bit long, in an odd shade of green with a flower print, and hemmed with black lace. I don't like it, and in fact positively detested it when I first bought it (don't ask why I got it in the first place), but...it's grown on me.
I still don't like it. Thought I wouldn't wear it at all after the first blush from my retail high faded (quickly), but I've worn it pretty often since, more so than other skirts in my acquaintance. I'd never wear it for anyone I wanted to impress (ahem) but as there's no one I care to impress right now anyway, that's fine. This skirt is like a mood ring. Not that it changes colours (although that would be neat! or not.), but it appears to be a gauge of my self-esteem through its appearance. Succinctly put, the better I feel about myself, the more often you see it on me.
It's an odd relationship, to say the least, but there you have it. It's my happy skirt.
I haven't worn it very much lately.
0 comments:
Post a Comment