I’ve told y’all once, I’ve told y’all a thousand times: I am a girly girl. If it has frills or a bow, comes in pink or is lined with pearls or sparkly bits, my eyes will light up and I will make a beeline for it. It’s just who I am.
Is anybody really that surprised that I nabbed these pink suede pumps the moment I saw them?
For the record: pink suede pumps >>>> blue suede shoes.
What I’m Wearing:
Top: J.Crew / Blazer: J.Crew, color sold out / Skirt: J.Crew, old (similar)
Shoes: Ann Taylor / Purse: Vince Camuto, old (similar) / Earrings: J.Crew, old (similar)
Watch: Daniel Wellington, c/o (use code “GLITTERANDSPICE” for 15% off) / Ring: BaubleBar
Friday night was my first date in almost 6 months. Why? Because my last date was at once both hilarious and scarring.
Last spring, I went on a date. I go on a lot of dates (pretty sure we’re up to over 100 first dates now?), so that part isn’t surprising. Neither is the fact that, in my typical fashion, I showed up in a girly little look and – in my unbiased perspective – looked generally adorable. It was a blind date and he had offered to pick me up from my office to go to happy hour together one day after work. I’m all about the midweek drinking, so I obviously said yes. When this dude texted me at 6PM that he was outside, I hopped in the elevator, confident as all hell in my outfit, and then found him standing outside.
With a skateboard under his foot.
And a spare skateboard in his hand.
Apparently that one was meant for me.
If you know me, you know that I do not skateboard. Mainly because I’m about as coordinated as a baby panda (aka I generally just stumble about), so activities and I generally don’t get along. Especially not wheeled activities. Long story short, brochacho did not get a second date…
TBD on whether or not Friday night will!