It's possible that I have become frumpy.
Every morning I get dressed in the quasi-darkness, look myself over, think "That looks just fine!" and then run out the door. If my Better Half happens to be conscious, he rolls over and mumbles that I look "soooo cute" and then immediately falls back asleep (It's dark, his eyes are closed, but he still says it! Sweet!). I feel encouraged, and off I go.
But see, I am the kind of gal who always opts for comfort over everything else. Shoes, shirts, pants, you name it. If it isn't some sort of natural fibre (my skin crawls under polyester) and if it isn't cozy, I usually don't wear it. By the time I get to the office, however, and see everyone in their snazzy suits and funky heels, I feel like I went to work in my pyjamas. This feeling only gets worse in trendier cities like Toronto or Montreal. I'm not sure how some people have time to micro-manage their outfits, matching makeup and accessories, but I lack the kind of dedication it takes to get that obsessed. I wake up at 5:30 am. I'm more focused on catching my bus than straightening my hair or ironing my skirt. I would love to look that together, but I'm really just not there. Together is not my thing.
And I might be wrong about this, but I feel like having an office job has hindered my non-office wardrobe. I no longer have a use for many of my more interesting outfits, some of which include severely patched army pants, feminist t-shirts, an array of jeans, sneakers, and dresses I long to wear. My pink heels? My green shoes with anime characters on them? My slouchy boots in mustard yellow? Let's face it. Those are for fun, not business. And waking up as early as I do means that I no longer stay out until 2am testing out the recesses of my wardrobe.
In related news, I suddenly feel justified in getting a new pair of shoes. And maybe a haircut that doesn't involve me, clutching crayola scissors, making "adjustments" over the bathroom sink.