Who wants to buy me the GHD flat iron?

Something terrible is happening. I’m losing my game. My mojo is gone. (Pun intended, for those to whom I returned the real Mojo this afternoon.)

I’m talking, of course, about the indefinable sense of assurance that comes from knowing that one is well-coiffed, suitably dressed, and, generally, looking fantastic.

Now, I’m used to the general feeling of “meh” that comes with the change of seasons – the lassitude of unpacking last year’s sweaters or sundresses and wondering how you ever got by with such a raggedy pile of crap – but this is different. It’s not as though I haven’t done the requisite “fall into winter” shopping. I’ve scoured every inch of Target, browsed bluefly, and spent hours in the racks at Marshall’s, but still. Nothing. It’s not like I haven’t tried. It’s like my INSTINCTS are wrong.

Case in point:

Shopping with my sisters last weekend, out of the corner of my eye, I spied a gorgeous pair of black, kitten-heeled, knee-high boots. It was almost like they jumped off the shelf at me. So I bought them. (Rather, my mom bought them for me. I know, I know.) I spent the evening prancing around the house in my new footwear, imagining all the new outfits I’d be able to make now that I had closed-toe shoes. This morning, I discovered that the boots are too dressy to work with any of my weird jersey-knit skirts and that they look like cowboy boots when worn with jeans. NOT in a cool way.

But Before That:

The Friday after Thanksgiving, my mom made hair appointments for my sisters and me. I’m not usually one to get all maudlin about stylists, but the hairdresser at this salon gave me what was probably my favorite haircut EVER and also did my hair on my wedding day, which, hi.

hair

I’m sorry, that’s a fucking miracle.

So anyway, I told her kind of what I wanted (angled bob, lots of layers) and left the salon happy. Happy until the next day, that is, when I washed my hair and discovered that, without the aid of a very expensive straightener, I will heretofore look like a curly, frizzy, trianglehead.

And Finally:

It took me 45 minutes to dress myself today. Everything looks like shit, and I am almost always freezing. Waaah.

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