the anti dc sheds her pants!

Phew! This was one salacious weekend. Mainly, because I went out without my signature tight pants on Saturday. BUTT (wordplay Goulet!), lest we get all hot and bothered about the prospect of me dropping trou (um, anyone? *sigh*), let me ASSure you (double wordplay Goulet!) that I didn't just de-pants and roll out. No, I did in fact cover my non-proverbial, actual ass. However, instead of spandex-heavy denim, I opted instead to go with a dress. This is quite monumental for me as my tapered pants and I have had a long and fruitful relationship. So monumental, in fact, that I decided to photo-document my experience without them by posting an array of low-resolution self-portraits.

But, before we get to me, me, me and even more me in a dress (that is, if you didn't just stop reading after the first, second, third or -- I'm even embarrassed now -- fourth mention of "me"), I want to preface with a short story these photos of what quite honestly I consider a nice, but hardly groundbreaking ensemble -- especially in comparison to real style bloggers, whose outfit invention skills trump mine by millions (i.e., Dreamecho, The Clothes Horse and, of course, DC's very own Ms. Spinach).

And before you really do click on the upper-righthand corner and close this blog again for veering way, way off of its original course, my decision to post a few photos of an outfit I really enjoyed wearing is in slight retaliation to a DC douchetastic comment I endured on Friday night about a quite different fashion choice. I decided on a whim to pair some little grey glovelets with my outfit of tight pants (duh) and an oversized sweater-vest cardigan. (I had to though; I mean, anything that's good enough for Karl Lagerfeld is certainly good enough for me.)

But in short, get over it DC -- not everyone is happy in khakis and Crocs. Or at least if you're gonna bitch about someone's outfit choices, start a narcissistic blog about it featuring equal parts hilarious condescension, outlandish sarcasm and endearing self-deprecation (sounds so awesomely familiar somehow...). And to the Friday Night Douche: I know fingerless glovelets on a 70-degree night are "unnecessary." Thanks for informing me in such an asstastic, humorless way.

But anyway, on to Saturday's gloveless outfit. Quite ironically, I had a wedding to attend that afternoon so, out of what originally was obligation, I donned a dress. However, after a quick change of accessories and hair style later that evening, I decided I liked the look so much that I would run with it all night. And strangely, making up for the Friday Night Douche, DC actually seemed to like it (which, um, I guess could be a veiled insult come to think of it -- BURN!). Yeah, I'm not really used to fashion kudos around these parts.

Anyway, now that I've sufficiently built up this admitedly unexciting ensemble, allow me to further disappoint you by showing you four times over what I've decided is the first of many dress-centric outfits I'm going to start scraping together for the spring/summer seasons. And, one more thing, please do cut me some slack on the quality of the photos as I currently do not own a full-length mirror (I know, blasphemy, right?) or a workable digital camera (thank the Lord of Street Dice, though, for cell phone upgrades).

Looking past the awkwardness of my sad puppy facial expression, I'd like to give special notice to this dress's pockets -- so handy. I bought the dress at Anthropolgie, by the way, on Boylston Street in Boston in 2006. This is the third time I've worn it.

Ahhh, the belt -- quite possibly my favorite piece of this entire outfit. It was a gift from my southern grandma, who bought it sometime in the 1960s. Thanks g-ma!

And these are the tights, which surprisingly enough, I found at CVS (!) last week. I enjoy patterned hosiery. Please, however, forgive the elfish wedding shoe choice. I was in a bind as the heels I wanted to wear were tucked away at the cobbler's...

And here's where the real genius kicked in -- not only did I discover that I can get a full outfit shot in my bathroom mirror by precariously balancing on an unsteady IKEA stool (oh, the things I'll do for this blog), but I decided to transition the outfit to nighttime by adding boots (Steven by Steve Madden) and a Dorothy Zbornak-esque cardigan (Benetton, although bought in Rome, natch -- equal parts condescension, remember?) It is too bad there isn't a head shot with this one, though, as I managed to somehow put my hot mess of hair in a rather impressive bouffanty ponytail. Note to self: BUY A GODDAMN FULL-LENGTH MIRROR.

XO