I look just like every other girl in the financial district in downtown Seattle. I have black boots, black leggings, and a black Jackie O inspired coat that's fitted at the waist. Sometimes I wear a scarf. It's like the "downtown Seattle" unifrom. Kinda redic.
We (me and my hilarious male coworkers) like to sit in our offices and pick out the women who are trying so hard to walk downtown in heels but are failing miserably. It's cruel, I know. But you're so obvious! It's like a toe-heel stomp that makes a loud clapping noise. There's no control coming from your abdomen or calf muscles. It usually involves leaning forward slightly too. I don't get it. If you can't do it, wear flats. Don't walk like a duck. That doesn't look good on anybody.
So today I'm in Forever 21 looking for leggings. They have racks and racks of colored leggings but I'm looking for black ones (I have 4 pair but they're getting worn and it's time to replace them). An adorable little guy (obviously interested in Adam more than Eve) walked up and asked if I needed help. I told him I was looking for black leggings.
He says, "We don't have any more. For some reason all you people just grab them up like candy."
Then he pauses, puts a hand on his waist and a finger to his chin, cocks his head to the side, raises a judgmental eyebrow at me and says, "But this would obviously be a good time for you to play with color...explore a little." He smiles, and walks away.
Today I bought purple tights.
And I love them.
These are not my legs.
PS. Doesn't today's Capitol Hill Style Blog featured Seattlite look like Florence Welch?!??!
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