Real Clothes

I don’t know what real clothes look like anymore. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but I feel like I’ve forgotten how to put myself together. After spending four weeks in yoga pants, five days a week, and desperately avoiding having to put on clothes other than sweaters or leggings, I now can’t even remember what I used to wear to work on a daily basis. Damn you, yoga teacher training and general laziness.

I’ve had a few interviews in the past two weeks and it’s been a struggle to force jeans onto my legs. And I’ve lost 6 pounds in the past month (yay!), so it’s not that they no longer fit! To quote the poet Cher Horowitz, they’re just “so binding.”

I had an interview today for a temp job in the HR department of a fashion company and when I went out it was a fashion company, my first thought was, “oh shit.” I wasn’t sure how I was going to convince these people that I gave two fucks about fashion when I clearly don’t. I ultimately decided upon a 5+ year old black wrap dress from Old Navy with black boots and a hot pink leather jacket. 

(Let’s not talk about how the recruiter gave me the wrong address for their offices and the offices are actually located an hour+ away from me via subway. In the end, I chose not to go or to reschedule. Because the fashion industry sucks and Whitehall Street is really hella far away.)

How should I rectify the situation? I thought an inventory review of my closet was in order. IS in order. Meaning, I have yet to do it. But I will. Soon enough. After a season of leggings and sweaters, I have no idea what else is left in my closet. Does that happen to anyone else?

Nevertheless, here’s to trying to dress like an actual human being again. 

Lole White Yoga in Central Park

When I entered and won my ticket to Lole White’s free massive yoga class in Central Park, it said the start time was 4:30 and I was like, “Oh well, can’t go. #adulting.” Then I realized the class started at 6 and I assumed probably later (because lots of adults in this city are lucky enough to have jobs) and left the office fifteen minutes early arriving around 6:10 to the Great Lawn. I own zero pairs of white leggings (for obvious reasons) but I wore my mint green pair (also not flattering, but less unflattering than white) and a white t-shirt. 

I was towards the back but I found an unclaimed mat and gift bag (with a Fuji water bottle, a water bottle light, a Lole no-slip headband (spoiler: it slips), a protein packet, a magazine, among other things) and sat down to warm up. 

The class was taught by three teachers and was more vigorous than I anticipated (but i loved every minute of it). There were volunteers walking around helping people with their alignment and it kinda-sorta made me want to take a teacher training course so I could qualified to do the same thing someday. Anyways. The chick in front of me wouldn’t stop stopping to take photos though – and having her male friend take photos of her in random poses. Put down your damn phone, girl.

The class was accompanied by the beautiful music Ingrid Michaelson and the weather was perfect. I rolled up my new mat, tucked it into my new tote bag, and peaced out through Central Park.

It was a good way to spend a Wednesday night.