As promised, Kate the Ginger Menace took me shopping. She, along with our friend Michelle, told me what to try on, what worked, what didn’t, and what would work if I had it tailored.

I’m not gonna lie—it was real stressful for me, and I had to do some deep breathing in Ann Taylor Loft, which was the first store we went into. But I bought stuff, and I told the girls as we walked out the door that I was giving myself an attitude adjustment for the rest of the stores, which I did pretty successfully I think.

The thing is, I don’t understand fashion. I’ve never considered myself a total shlub, but in the past, if I had jeans and a white t-shirt that were clean, I was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. If I wasn’t wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, I must not have had any that were clean. And I mean, I didn’t own that many white t-shirts, so I wore other things. Like green t-shirts.

But you know, not boxy unisex t-shirts—fitted ladies’ ones that showed that I had a waist and also complemented my eyes. Moreover, my sister had a friend who once said she hated it when people wore running shoes “as attire”, and since then, I’ve always tried to reserve my sneakers for the gym and wear actual shoes when not there. (Except my super-cute pink and gray New Balance. But they’re super-cute.)

Kate, though, Kate wears real clothes and legit shoes and honest-to-god accessories. Every day. (She also wears makeup every day—that’s how she was able to give me the tutorial.) Girl always looks put together. So I listened intently to all her advice.

She had some good blanket statement guidelines, like

• Work with neutrals (gray, brown, black, navy), but add a splash of color;
• Boob pockets—not for people with boobs; and
• A bendable ballet flat, no matter how expensive, is a shit shoe.

Stuff like that. I can remember that.

But the day was also full of new vocabulary (“saturated colors”) and conversations like

Kate: Higher. On the smallest part of your waist. (hitching my skirt up)
Me: Noooooooooooooooooooooo. 
Kate: Yes.
Me: It feels weird. I feel like a kindergartener! I feel like an old lady! I don’t know how I feel!
Kate: It looks better there.
Me: It’s above my belly button!
Kate: Right.
Me: (whimper)

And

Me: What kind of belt would I wear with this?
Kate: None. Unless it was a statement belt.
Me: What’s a statement belt?
Kate: A belt that makes a statement. That ties the outfit together.
Me: What if I just need a belt to hold my pants up?
Kate: (sigh) Then you need to get your pants altered.

And

Kate: The dark jeans and the turquoise top with the open shoulders and the purple jacket.
Me: Yeah.
Kate: That outfit says, “I’m here for sex.”
Me: “I’m here for sex.”
Kate: You’re there for sex.

I bought a bunch of stuff. When we got home, Kate laid everything out on her bed, and I took pictures, for reference, of all the outfits she made. And I’ve worn… some of it. The skirts, not yet, but it’s cold! I’ll wear them. Pretty sure I’ll wear them. At some point. I have to because when else will I get to wear my new

(The other option, other than skirts, is to buy skinny jeans <shudder> to tuck into them.)

Kate got a little concerned today because I haven’t worn many of the clothes yet. But I will, I promise! I know they’re good, they’ll make me look good, even if I don’t necessarily feel at home in them yet. It just takes me some time. Listen, I put on all the makeup last night even though I was going out to dinner with Michelle and her husband, neither of whom I feel the need to impress! Just because I was going out! Progress!

Anyway, maybe I’ll post some photos when I get to that point with the clothes. Like if I get a skirt and the tall boots on. Or if I’m there for sex.