Several years ago, The Kid and I were were scheduled to participate in a church program loosely based on the old game show, The Newlywed Game. For days leading up to the big event we would toss questions at each other that we thought might be asked. At one point The Kid stated that if they asked about my favorite color he would reply "black pants."
For a few minutes I was miffed. And then I started to think about it. I gave up dresses about the same time I gave up panty hose....when we moved to this sweat tank we call paradise. The fact is, I can't remember the last time I wore a dress. I guess I'm a pants kinda (cover it all up) girl. But what of the the black? I went to the closet to have a look see. And you know what? He was right. I have exactly two colors of pants hanging in my closet, blue jeans and black. No bright neons, no khaki, no brown, no navy. Just black. Well there is that one odd pair of white Capris but they don't count. They're almost shorts anyway.
So, what does this say about me. Drab? Depressed? Unfashionable? Boring? Perhaps just overly influenced by European style? Or perhaps just smart. That must be it. I'm a smart fashionista. Black is slimming. Black is basic. Black goes with everything. Black is classic. Maybe even chic. That's me, classic and chic.
When I reach into my closet for pants I know exactly what I'm going to get. Black. And that's okay by me. I am all about consistency.
But please, do me a favor. Don't pick up the phone and call What Not to Wear. I couldn't bear to see Stacy and Clinton toss those white Capri's in the trash barrel.
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