Friday, September 25, 2009

Day Nine: It's the Little Things

May I vent?

I'm no laundry goddess. I wash. I dry. I fold. I rarely iron. Actually, I don't even use the dryer that much. I hate it when things shrink.

I have an aunt and uncle who are so dedicated about making their clothes last a long time that they hang up pretty much all of their clothes to dry in the basement. Being fairly conscientious about making clothes last myself, I hang up things in my laundry room. (I've been looking for an automatic clothesline that's longer than nine feet for my deck/backyard. There's none to be found out here on the prairie, oddly enough. Not even at the Rural King.)

I was dismayed to discover that I'd accidentally put one of my favorite new tee shirts in the dryer. This  gray one:

Already, it was a Medium in juniors, so it was smallish on me. Now it would be tight even on my nine year-old. Ugh.

Then, as I was sorting laundry, looking at tags, I discovered that my fun new Norma Kamali athletic dress is 60/40 cotton/poly. Don't know why I didn't notice that before--probably because I bought it online, rather than in a store. Cotton/poly blends don't shrink a lot, but they have a tendency to pill. (I owned a clothes shaver once. A clever toy, but useless.)I don't want to take a chance that the Kamali stuff will pill or shrink--I want it to last!

Almost all the Wal-Mart clothes I've bought thus far will require special treatment to make it through the year. I have to hang up pretty much everything except, perhaps, blue jeans, pajamas, and workout wear.

A day or two ago, I posted a pic of me in my new red rain boots. I didn't mention that I had bought a fabulous new pair of Hunter Wellies just the week before I decided to take on this insane project. I've had a fun pair of blue patterned wellies from Lands' End for several years, but I was ready for something new. For me, wellies aren't just a fashion statement.

This is where I spend much of my time

mucking about with the dogs. And we have long periods of rain, and this:

Things get messy.

Let's compare: (Hrothgar will help!)

On the left, the $25 Wal-Mart slick red rubber rain boots. Cute. Sturdy. But way too short to be desirable unless you're nine. (They reach almost to my son's knees.) On the right, the $110 Hunter Wellies. I so want to wear these boots! To walk the dogs, to pick up the boy at school, to go for coffee. I know it sounds silly to pine over a pair of boots that I could take out of the box and put on right now--but it's small things like lovable rubber boots that come together to create one's personal style.

Wednesday's ensemble:

It was a writing/errand sort of day. Damp. Blue jeans were in order.


These are the lighter wash jeans. Again with the decor on the back pockets. Can't be helped. This brand fits better than the Lee jeans and we're not even going to talk about the L.E.I. jeans. Yes, that's the same style shirt as the one that shrank. I have a red one, too. Choices are very, very limited at the mother ship. The brown gladiator sandals were good with this, though I would've liked to have something with a little height. I'm getting very bored with the brown pleather necklace and bronze pendant. *yawn* I picked up an three-pair assortment of cultured pearl single earrings the other day, but I'm apparently too lazy to photograph them today.

Total:  Faded Glory blue jeans: $15; Miley Cyrus/Max Azria tee $8; L.E.I. gladiator sandals $11 (clearance); necklace: $7; earrings $4  (3 pairs/$12)   Together: $45 (Are you seeing a trend here, too?)

Major challenge tomorrow. Attending a Little Black Dress fundraiser with girlfriends. Two choices: the Norma Kamali batwing dress in black ($20), or the George sheath ($16).


  1. Hi beautiful,

    I know what you mean about the dryer. Almost never use mine at all because my mother used to shrink everything on a super high setting and blame the entire family for getting "very fat" and then laughing hysterically. I didn't think it was funny then, but now I smile at the memory. I love both pairs of red boots!

  2. I always love your stories, Sweet Michelle.

    Note: You all must meet poet/memoirist Michelle Brooks at her blog. She writes very close to her beautiful bones: