Night to Day
Because I know you know how to master the reverse
This weekend in important things and subsequent questions worth mentioning: Reese Witherspoon in jail. Was anyone else under the false impression that Reese Witherspoon’s high level of immunity to the dramatic antics indigenous to Hollywood could inoculate the prospect that she could, or would ever end up in jail? Ditto–which ultimately demonstrated how very, very wrong making sweeping assumptions can be. This now, brings me to the thick of today’s post, which is a lesson of sorts in not dressing for day and transcending said outfit to night. Why? Because that is an exhausted outfitting editorial and because, in sparing ourselves a bevy of new assumptions, I am pretty positive that you are adventurous women. And you know what adventurous women do? They get dressed, go out, and then don’t come home (til the next day, I guess.)
Now, suppose you decide to wear a teal suit on a Saturday night aptly paired with a white negligee-esque tank top which you conveniently bought from the roster of shit that I designed with PJK and some lace-up high heeled sandals. You know shit is going to get weird because you’re probably going to Southside (where top-siders and Barbour vests apparently run amuck) which is a supposition I can only make based on the events of my most single friend’s social life. And I’m not saying that you’re going to go home with someone who may take advantage of your labia (teal suit, pasty skin, people) but I am saying you might run into your camp BFF and amid recollecting the chants your bunk made up in 2001, you’re not sure how this happens, but boom: you’re all of a sudden cuddled up in her bed eating DIY peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Oh no, though. You’ve got a brunch tomorrow (here too, top-siders, Barbour vests and camp BFFs run amuck) and you’re almost positive you won’t make it home to change pre-brunch. So what does thee do?
Eureka! Turn back time, take a pair of sneakers from home, throw them inside your purse and fast forward once again to the moment you find yourself in lace-up sandals, wondering what to do at risk of feeling like the most seedless walk of shame to grace the concrete streets of your city.
Now here is where things get slightly tricky.
Not because you’re confused about your clothes–ultimately, remedying the “nightyness” of any evening outfit should be as simple and changing your shoes. You can tie your jacket around your waist, put your hair up, and tuck your blouse in, should you please but I’d be hard pressed to tell you that’s obligatory. The shoes, though, what to do with the shoes? They’re certainly not going to fit in your bag and you certainly don’t intend to keep them on. So? What now? Huh? What do you do?
Fine, I’ll tell you.
You throw them over your shoulder! Now I know what you’re thinking: there’s Leandra being an ass brain with a brain made of ass again but don’t you remember 1995? I can’t speak for you, obviously, but I basically learned how to roller blade only so that I could tie the laces of both my roller blades to each other and sling them across my shoulder. Sometimes I’d take them out even though I knew I didn’t intend to wheel. It’s an unconventional accoutrement, sure, but probably delivers a healthy bout of practicality, too (if only because you can store things inside the roller blades and what not.) So why not try that with a pair of lace up heels too? Maybe the storage thing won’t work, fine, but at least you’ll know you’re reliving the dreams of my childhood. That’s something, isn’t it?