Owning up to my wardrobe, ahem, consistency is something that took me a long time to accomplish. The reality is I wear the same thing -- a lot. And as much as I talk a big game about the virtues of a uniform, truth be told, deep down, my lack of sartorial adventure has always nagged at me a bit. I see the gals sporting the bold color and the artfully mixed prints layered just so, and I can't help but feel that my outfit M.O. is boring. But every time I dip my toe in those waters myself, I feel off and race back to the comfort of my go to pieces.
It was while I was packing for Paris that I finally seemed to overcome this harbored sense of wardrobe inadequacy. (At least, once I got past my intimidation of the super-chic French woman.) In my bag, with almost no hesitation, went the components of my uniform: my trusty Uniqlo jeans in grey and black, a skinny black blazer, a few long thin American Apparel tanks, a couple of tweedy jackets (one from Madewell, one from Rag and Bone), a stripe, an easy white blouse, some chunky (yet walkable) boots, a statement piece of jewelry or two, my CV bags, and I was good to go. Throw in my Givenchy Pandora and some wedge sandals (not practical for Paris in December), and you have, well, pretty much what I wear 99.9% of my life.
But the real revelation happened when I arrived in Paris, opened my suitcase, and proceeded to spend 10 days never wondering what I was going to wear. I felt like myself, and (as weird as it feels to admit it) I felt chic. I suppose there's something about being comfortable and confident in what you're wearing that's chicer than layered prints and a pop of color any day, yes?
That's what I'm going with at least ;-)
