I am trying to remember when, if ever, I possessed a sense of style. And was it any good? How did I develop this long-forgotten style? Did I have time to notice anything beyond whether an item of clothing had a stain on it?
It is nearly impossible to dress and end up looking "put together" when there is a one-year-old tugging at your legs. Dogs allow you to dress yourself.
Forget ironing, unless it's a quick pass over on the front, and only the front, of a blouse. Forget accessories, unless it's a five-year-old wrinkled scarf that has magically surfaced at the top of your dresser. Forget mascara all together.
It is nearly impossible to dress and end up looking "put together" when there is a one-year-old tugging at your legs. Dogs allow you to dress yourself.
Forget ironing, unless it's a quick pass over on the front, and only the front, of a blouse. Forget accessories, unless it's a five-year-old wrinkled scarf that has magically surfaced at the top of your dresser. Forget mascara all together.
