Bonjour mes petits choux. I am feeling tres French today, by which, bien sur, I mean, FRANGLAIS. (In other news, can anyone remind me of the shortcuts for inserting accents when using a PC? We of the Mac Family are PC-challenged). Do I look a little French? Peut-etre (or maybe, for you non-franglais speakers). Actually not really... I am essentially a walking J. Crew commercial, right from the headband atop my crown, to the argyle of my sweater to the courdoroy of my pants.
I really don't have enough argyle in my life.
Which reminds me I am très (that accent came from a copy & paste out of a word doc, in case you were wondering) excited to get to New York and Maine and to explore the contents of my closets in each. I have a feeling in New York I can find a pair of black Chuck Taylors (I have a pair of white ones here in Cali, because black is a bit harsh for the laid back vibes of the West Coast, n'est-ce pas?) and about 7 different cable knit sweaters of various neck styles and colors (my fave might be the navy turtleneck--oh it is simply divine!). Also waiting is my long puffy North Face jacket which is essentially a wearable sleeping bag. In Maine I recall leaving my duck boots, some Patagonia fleeces (my love for outwear is mutually inclusive when it comes to North Face and Patagonia) and a shit-ton of Dankso clogs, which you can really only wear in Maine. I also can't wait to explore what (if any) summer clothes I have that I can bring to LA. A certain LBD sticks out in memory (that's Little Black Dress, bien sur) which could be really useful for work and post-work events alike.
You know on second thought all this franglais and discussion of clothing direct from a prep schooler's closet circa 1982 is a little much au moment. I have to step out to the ladies room now, so I can admire my argyle for a moment. Excusez-moi.