Cardigan: Banana Republic
Husband beater*: Old Navy
Jeans: Gap (still with the ripped belt loop)
Flats: Primark in London, four years ago for £4.
Necklace: No idea.
I should have taken pictures earlier in the week because, if I do say so myself, I looked way cuter. This morning I had to get up early but was still late, got delayed watching a segment on Good Morning America, and then tried on about 10 different things before settling on my pajamas. But, since I don't think my work dress code is that casual, I threw this on.
Then there were metro and bus delays, so despite getting up an hour earlier than usual, I barely got to work a half hour sooner. And the day just kept going from there, some good, some bad. Ready for weekend, that's all I know for sure.
*I've been using the term "husband beater" to describe tank tops off and on over the years as I find the term "wife beater" terribly offensive. I've grown more adamant in recent weeks because of a friend's insistence on calling them "wife beaters." Pretty sure he's doing it just to anger me, but two can play that game. I'm also trying to make "breasty" or "she's got breasts" have the same meaning as "ballsy" or "he's got balls." I disapprove of the association of strength or intelligence, weakness or emotion, with gender-specific body parts, but as long as it's out there I'm going to counter it. (I've been really feminist-y lately. Not sure if it's the recent gender studies books I've read or following Feminist Hulk and NOW on Twitter, but I've been wanting to punch patriarchy squarely in the [fill in the blank.])