What I am. And what I ain't.

On Easter, I rocked the same dress for the third Easter in a row.  Mind you, it also served as a bridesmaid dress for my cousin Erin's wedding.  

I think it's perty.


In fact, if I had about 20 more of them in different colors and patterns, I'd wear it every day.  It's a flattering, feminine cut and hangs right below the knee.  Perfect.  Erin - where did you get these?! I want more!

Sorry.  This was the only photo I could find of it.  Except now, I have to wear a cami underneath the top.  Because now, post nursing, I am a super negative AA bra size.  I belong in the tween department.  Great.  Why doesn't anyone prepare you for these 'surprises'?!


As I sat getting dressed on Easter morning, I finally had to come to terms with something about myself.  I've been trying to deny it for a long time, but alas, the time has come.  


I'm just not fashionable.  


Not that I'm walking around in potato sacks, mind you, but the reality is I just don't care enough about fashion...to care.  


Oh sure, I gawk at the pretty blouses and tailored skirts as I'm browsing through Target (yes, that's fancy to me)...but the reality is, I never have the extra money to buy them, so I just keep myself from looking.

But here's the real reality: I've found I'd much rather spend our money on an organic chicken than a new t-shirt.  That's right, I admit it - bring me a fancy bottle of balsamic over a pair of jeans any day.  You see, I've prioritized our budget so that a certain amount of money goes to maintaining our 'standard' of food.  And I'm not willing to give up our raw & organic cheddar cheese for new clothes.


That being said, if you'd rather go clothes shopping than eat raw & organic cheddar cheese, more power to ya.


I wish I was that way.


I wish I was stylish and hip.  But, sigh, I just ain't.


I love picking up a special piece of clothing here and there, and truthfully, I wear them for years.  Unfortunately, I don't do this often enough to keep my wardrobe on the up-and-up.  And if it weren't for my sisters and Mom, I may just be walking around naked.  Yikes.

It's a relief, in a way, to take that pressure off.  Accepting what is.  And accepting what isn't.


Girlfriend can only dress so fancy while she's pulling beets from the garden, anyway.


And at least I can still rock my Easter dress.  For many years to come.