Not-so-classic Crisp White Shirts

Okay, one of the paralegals I work with loves Oprah. Anything Oprah (or one of her endorsed guests) says goes. For instance, right now she's on a red wine kick because Dr. Oz — an Oprah endorsee — said red wine was good for your heart, and although red grape juice has similar benefits, it’s not as effective. To boot, alcohol has an instant, coma-like effect on said paralegal, so she doesn't really drink. Can you say "lightweight?" Most importantly, she HATES red wine! So now she's got her husband running around town looking for red wine varietals that she can "tolerate" enough to take her nightly 4 oz. dose of "medicine." Apparently, having to choke it down like those bad-college-shooters mixed out of scrounged up dorm liquor doesn’t seem to faze her. I, and everyone in the office, have given her permission to switch to the grape juice, but she won't budge.

Don't get me wrong, I like Oprah and I love how inspiring and introspective she can be. But I thought I was equally inspired and introspective in my own way, until I failed Oprah's "what's the single most important piece of clothing in a woman's wardrobe?" test.

It's the classic, crisp white button-down shirt — of course! The day after that show aired the ladies at work were talking about it over lunch. I hadn't seen the show (I'm a hard-core HGTV fan), but I did guess that the crisp white shirt was the most important piece in a wardrobe, followed by the classic trench. I swore up and down to the ladies at work that I had a whole closet full of them! See:

That conversation put a bug in my bugaloo, so this week I decided to rock my $9-Lord & Taylor-cranberry-red-cashmere-sweater with a crisp, white shirt. I failed to notice, however, that all of my white shirts have 3/4- or bracelet-length sleeves. Not a single full length sleeve to be found! I just knew I had at least one french-cuff shirt in there! NOT! Nothing worse than a 3/4-sleeve cuff "bump" to ruin the line of my cranberry cashmere ... not to worry, I rocked it anyhow!

All this to say ... my next project is to get off my process-paralyzed tush and get working on a button-down, crisp white shirt with fabulous cuffs!

It’s a Process, Dummy

I used to live in San Francisco. You know what that means … access to some of the finest fibers and fiber artists in the world! (Britex, I MISS you!) I was poor but partaking at that time. Any extra $$ after rent and car payments, I poured in to my City girl life, including sewing. My fab sewing instructor at the old Sewing Workshop told me and the rest of the small class of serious over-achievers-as we were sweating & swearing our way through learning single and double welt pockets—that the JOY of sewing was in the process. Eureka! Now, mind you, my formative years were in the 80s and that makes me the epitome of instant gratification, so this was a novel idea for me. But chewing on it later after successfully completing that double welt (I wonder where that sewing journal and sample are now???), I figured out she was right. I am SOOOO a “process” person … to the point of paralysis sometimes.