I’m not really the biggest fan of people buying clothes for me. Call it a condition born of my inherent sense of manifest destiny or even rugged individualism. Call it stubborn pickiness for all I care.
Just understand that if you take on the role of uninformed haberdasher in charge of outfitting your favorite blogger, you’re going to get it wrong.
Your attempted guesses at my size and desired style will miss the mark about 90% of the time. In those times, I will most likely return the garment to gain in-store credit for something in my color, size, and style.
It’s been that way for a long time. I used to drive my parent crazy with that little personality quirk when I was growing up.
Are you getting me clothes as a gift? A gift card will suffice nicely. Thank you.
With that credit I bought a belt.
It has a woven style and a million holes for my variable sized waist line.
It holds my pleat fronted dark solids up when my plumber’s butt continues to be negligent in its duties.
It still has that new belt smell.