Men. Do. Pause.

A few days ago I was talking with my sister.

Actually, I was forcing her to play Barbie. 

Believe it or not, I have a lot more fun dressing up others than posing relentlessly - though you wouldn't know if from this blog.  

Anyhow, after about the 50th "where would I ever wear this!?", it began to dawn on me that maybe my basic "go-tos" were not exactly . . . basic. 

And, as I exclaimed how bodaciously fantastic all of my high-waisted pieces made her look, and gushed over how she would have to literally fight off all of the men who would surely obsess over her form in these clothes -

- she revealed something that my affinity for a certain blog probably should have long ago.

I do not know how to dress for men. 

At all. 

In fact, I'm beginning to realize that even when I try to make myself appealing to the opposite sex, I'm actually physically incapable of doing so. 

Personality quips aside, I think that this may be something to address if I continue to remain staunchly committed to my lifelong goal of having a dashingly-dressed-yet-seductively-serene man confess his love to me as the rising sun shines epically between our gently touching foreheads. 

boots: Seychelles (similar), top: ASOS (similar), skirt: Forever 21, rings, necklace: Target :) 

Ohhhhh well.  

Looks like Mr. Darcy will just have to put up with my combat boots for now. 

Cheers.