Starting point

Yesterday I hosted the international community's playgroup at our house. Usually, I make some (amazing) food, clean the house, and call it good. But this time I dressed up. (Eventually I won't have to tell you when I've dressed up.)

 I really love this skirt. It's from Boston Harbor or Boston Market or something like that. It has pictures of Italian villas all over it, it drapes nicely, and it's stretchy at the waist. I got it at a thrift shop in Virginia.
I know I'm just wearing a black t-shirt with it, but this is after trying on my usual aqua-colored shirt and realizing it's worn scandalously thin and isn't actually the right color anyway. And there's black in the skirt, so it matches, right?

There, this is much more chique. And I'm highlighting my uber-fashionable accessories: my watch inherited from my husband's grandmother (Inherited is cool, right? I actually just like it because it self-winds) and my 天使蛋 "Angel Egg" earrings I bought in China in 2004. They look like golden snitches, except silver and egg-shaped.
And shoes... I didn't wear any-- which was probably a more chique choice than my usual flip-flops.

Smoulder and duck lips-- because it's 2015, baby!

So there's my starting point. While I don't think I look awful, and I am certainly comfortable in my wardrobe, it's nothing to write home about. Which is ironic....