Father's Day Fashion-Disaster
Ok, I know it's completely selfish to be so focused on myself on a day that's meant to be focused on someone way more important, but I'm really bummed right now. See, my dad asks me every weekend to go to church with him. EVERY WEEKEND. Since I was 18 - when I left the church. And every weekend I say the same thing, "no thanks." But this year, my dad and I are closer than ever and I really wanted his entire Father's Day to be great, so I said that I would love to go to church with him. Of course, in anticipation of this monumentous acceptance, I packed a really cute outfit and all the fixin's so that I would have nothing to be self-concious about.
I'll back up.
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If you knew me a few years ago, you know that I used to be quite the little church girl. Typical -- read my bible, knew my stuff from front to back, sang on Sundays and Wednesdays with the rest of the congregation, etc. I only dated guys who were "Christians" and my whole life was wrapped up in it. So when I decided to leave - as in drop completely from the "gospel-radar" and fellowship all together, it was a huge deal to the church. Everyone had their opinion, all of which were discussed behind my back, of course. Either I had fallen into the wrong crowd that led me astray, met a boy I just had to have ("...cuz you know that Ali, always loving the boys..."), I was always a huge sinner and it was just a matter of time, or I was just trying to be rebellious. Really, the only people who even still associated with me were my parents and brothers. They never stopped believing I was an angel. Whatever, that's not what this is about. The real reasons I left? Not important. But they were real reasons. None of this "oh my dear, poor Ali" nonsense. I'm a better person for having left, there's no doubt in my mind. Whether I go back or not is not something I choose to speculate about. If it happens, it happens.
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Whoa, sorry about that tangent. But that gave you some background. Anyway, so I haven't seen these people in two years. I've definitely grown up - in more ways than a few - and don't necessarily feel like I have anyone to impress, but I just don't want there to be any reason for me to feel insecure. I want to focus on my dad tomorrow. So I had this amazing outfit picked out, right? One of my best...
Black Ann Taylor deep-v-neck sweater.
Black Express knee-length skirt with pastel-colored polka-dots.
Adorable Express pastel-pink knit cami for under the sweater.
Favorite little black open-toed heels from Prada in Chicago.
I'm telling you. I was gonna be sex in stilettos. No worries about appearance here. I was pumped and ready to see these two-faced, good-for-nothing....
Okay, so I was going through my bag (new Vera Bradley duffel, Danielle! Get excited!!) and realized I was missing an essential item: my Ann Taylor sweater. This was a disaster. My dad's quick fix? "Borrow something of your mom's..." Haha, right. Wear something that - not only have I never worn (which is never a good idea when all you want is to be is completely confident) - but that I didn't personally purchase (which can matter when it comes to your self-assurance). And not only did I not personally purchase whatever I was to wear, but it was purchased by a middle-aged woman. And not only a middle-aged woman, but my MOM? Yeah, good thinking, Dad. But, I have to remember that this isn't about me. This is about making my dad happy.
Tomorrow's gonna be rough. It was gonna be easier, and even kind of fun, when I waltzed in there all put-together, shocking everyone who assumed I had ended up on the streets somewhere, sleeping with whoever would provide the goods to me and my crack-addicted baby. I don't know though. It may be all in the attitude. That's what I've always thought - that it didn't matter what you were wearing or who you were with, as long as you were confident, you'd look like a million bucks. Ah fuck, who am I kidding? Tomorrow's gonna be hell in a holy-place.
I could really use a strong martini right about now.
Oh, and Josh sucks the big one. The biggest one ever.
Yeah, Josh, you know you do, you fucker.
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Almost forgot to add a picture of my super-hot-awesome-studly-GRADUATED brother!!
I'll back up.
---
If you knew me a few years ago, you know that I used to be quite the little church girl. Typical -- read my bible, knew my stuff from front to back, sang on Sundays and Wednesdays with the rest of the congregation, etc. I only dated guys who were "Christians" and my whole life was wrapped up in it. So when I decided to leave - as in drop completely from the "gospel-radar" and fellowship all together, it was a huge deal to the church. Everyone had their opinion, all of which were discussed behind my back, of course. Either I had fallen into the wrong crowd that led me astray, met a boy I just had to have ("...cuz you know that Ali, always loving the boys..."), I was always a huge sinner and it was just a matter of time, or I was just trying to be rebellious. Really, the only people who even still associated with me were my parents and brothers. They never stopped believing I was an angel. Whatever, that's not what this is about. The real reasons I left? Not important. But they were real reasons. None of this "oh my dear, poor Ali" nonsense. I'm a better person for having left, there's no doubt in my mind. Whether I go back or not is not something I choose to speculate about. If it happens, it happens.
---
Whoa, sorry about that tangent. But that gave you some background. Anyway, so I haven't seen these people in two years. I've definitely grown up - in more ways than a few - and don't necessarily feel like I have anyone to impress, but I just don't want there to be any reason for me to feel insecure. I want to focus on my dad tomorrow. So I had this amazing outfit picked out, right? One of my best...
Black Ann Taylor deep-v-neck sweater.
Black Express knee-length skirt with pastel-colored polka-dots.
Adorable Express pastel-pink knit cami for under the sweater.
Favorite little black open-toed heels from Prada in Chicago.
I'm telling you. I was gonna be sex in stilettos. No worries about appearance here. I was pumped and ready to see these two-faced, good-for-nothing....
Okay, so I was going through my bag (new Vera Bradley duffel, Danielle! Get excited!!) and realized I was missing an essential item: my Ann Taylor sweater. This was a disaster. My dad's quick fix? "Borrow something of your mom's..." Haha, right. Wear something that - not only have I never worn (which is never a good idea when all you want is to be is completely confident) - but that I didn't personally purchase (which can matter when it comes to your self-assurance). And not only did I not personally purchase whatever I was to wear, but it was purchased by a middle-aged woman. And not only a middle-aged woman, but my MOM? Yeah, good thinking, Dad. But, I have to remember that this isn't about me. This is about making my dad happy.
Tomorrow's gonna be rough. It was gonna be easier, and even kind of fun, when I waltzed in there all put-together, shocking everyone who assumed I had ended up on the streets somewhere, sleeping with whoever would provide the goods to me and my crack-addicted baby. I don't know though. It may be all in the attitude. That's what I've always thought - that it didn't matter what you were wearing or who you were with, as long as you were confident, you'd look like a million bucks. Ah fuck, who am I kidding? Tomorrow's gonna be hell in a holy-place.
I could really use a strong martini right about now.
Oh, and Josh sucks the big one. The biggest one ever.
Yeah, Josh, you know you do, you fucker.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Almost forgot to add a picture of my super-hot-awesome-studly-GRADUATED brother!!