Personal Style, where you at?
I have no style. And this is not one of those posts where I secretly want you to tell me I’m wrong. What I’m telling you is 100% accurate. I have no style. No writing style, no fashion style, no lifestyle…style, nada. I don’t wind turns of phrase down garden paths to create flowery, ostentatious language in posts that leave readers drooling for more. I’m not comfortable in stilettos so I end up in bright-colored tennies or flip flops more often than not. I don’t spend my days creating or feeling balanced or connected or introspective. I work damn hard and that’s that.
What I crave is a signature piece or a signature color or a signature… something. Something that people see and say, “Ah, yes, that’s totally Renee.” This post pretty much sums it up.
Okay, so maybe I own the same sweater as Emma Pillsbury on Glee and that makes me feel pretty darn good, and maybe I have two yellow velvet chairs in my living room, and maybe my girlfriend custom made me a handbag with an adorable owl on it, and maybe working hard and working a lot is a lifestyle style… but I feel like my personal style is static. I mean, I’m not above running errands in my yoga pants and Cleveland’s a Plum t-shirt that I won, although some days I happen to feel like throwing on a long Little House on the Prairie skirt with my trusty denim jacket and a big fat chunky necklace. Those are the days I treat myself to Jamba Juice and sit in the sunshine and think, “What do you mean I lack personal style? I AM STYLE.” But the next day I’m in my black work uniform, feeling frumpy and blah blah blah. And I think, “This about sums it up, doesn’t it?”