What do you do when you wake up Friday morning, and Al Roker cuts to the local weatherman who tells you to expect windchills of -20?
Well, as I see it, you have 2 options.
1. Wear the biggest, warmest, most horrifically unfigureflattering coat you can summon up from the depths of your overflowing closet.
And layer and layer and layer.
Which, in this case, results in a pilgrim-esque ensemble worthy of a good ol' Turkey dinner -
My initial intention was not to play Lincoln's bride (I'm fully aware of the historical discrepancy here. But Lincoln was pilgrimesque, was he not? . . . go with it.), but somewhere between the 4th and 5th layer, I began to realize that this was in fact the direction in which this outfit was headed.
No complaints. I'm not averse to a little Lincoln inspo, especially in light of his recent notoriety.
I am however, fully ready to admit that even with 7 or so overgarments-made-undergarments, this little getup here is in no way warm enough for the climate at hand.
Say what you will about global warming, but on days like this one, some balmy glacier melting would be a welcome sight.
|hat: UO, dress: H&M, grey ls: UO, white: Pitaya, black/lace: Free People, necklace: Zabe, tights: Pure & Good, boots: Jeffrey Campbell, bag: dad's|
Polar bear babies are no joke.
Save the polar bears!
Well this post just took a turn for the weird.