{Almost daily outfit of the day} Five a.m 2.3.12

Thrifted vintage blazer; thrifted J Crew button-down; thrifted vintage Levi's (chopped by me); Target tights; vintage thrifted Coach satchel; thrifted Marc Fisher loafers

I have gotten into the bewildering habit of waking up exactly 45 minutes before my alarm goes off. I startle suddenly out of a deep sleep, glance at the alarm clock, curse, and implore myself not to fall back asleep because, well, what's the point. After which I naturally fall back asleep and have a hallucinogenic dream where I'm stuck on the 1 line of the NYC subway and am being chased by a man trying to sell me Anna Wintour's collection of Chanel twin sets. Maybe this is just what happens when you get older. Soon I'll be eating dinner at 4 pm, upping my fiber content, watching old episodes of Matlock and yelling at kids to get off my lawn.

Almost daily outfit 9.27: Nobody puts Baby in a corner

Thrifted Ralph Lauren linen shirt; thrifted vintage Levis cutoffs; Gap sandals; thrifted Coach bag; Target belt; Dolly Python cuff;

Last week I thrifted a pair of old, worn out Levis with the sole purpose of chopping them into shorts. (This is the closest I'll ever come to exhibiting a DIY on this blog, by the way. Pinkie swear.) Because I am a child of the eighties, denim cutoffs make me think of one thing, and one thing only - Dirty Dancing. Also known as The Greatest Movie Ever Scripted. In cutoffs, I become Baby, a cynical daddy's girl intent on joining the Peace Corps until becoming entranced by bad-boy Johnny and doing elaborate dance moves with him in a lake. Baby wears her cutoffs, which look suspiciously like the same ones I purchased from the Gap in 1987, everywhere. She wears them while seductively walking down flights of stairs. She wears them while simultaneously slithering and lip-synching across a dance floor. The cutoffs are even there while she tries on wigs with her exhausting, jealous sister in some weird group class on the near-defunct Poconos resort she's staying in.

So this post is dedicated to you, Baby. You wore cutoffs, carried a watermelon, and fell into my heart.

 In case you missed it:

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