I've just spent half an hour flipping between Fashion File and Fashion Television, followed by 2 minutes watching a short film about pretty people. Conclusion #1 - I am reeeeaaally not stylish. Conclusion #2 - I'm okay with that.
Case in point, this morning I went down the road to pick up a Tim Hortons double double, a muffin, and a Jamaican patty from the local West Indian grocery shop. I rolled out of bed, exchanged my pjs for black sweats, red glasses, and pink running shoes, then headed out the door.
As I ambled down the street, it took just 2.5 blocks to realise just how fashion-challenged I really looked. Perhaps it was the once over and frown of disapproval I received from the corner bag lady. Yeah...that might have been a clue.
Undeterred, I paid for my coffee and boldly walked into an art gallery en route back home. I'd seen a gorgeous cityscape in the front window last week, and wanted to find out more about the collection.
Sadly, it appears the gallery was hosting an open house day - wine, beverages, and freshly baked goods. Which means that I maaaaay have given the impression that I was a homeless person come in for the free food.
It was shame alone that stopped me from gobbling up all of the chocolate chip cookies on display. Which is fine, because I already have a pint of chocolate brownie fudge ice cream waiting for me at the corner store.
