I had a little homework before I could road test my first atttempt at Parisian Style. My striped shirt has shrunk in length and the cowl has stretched too low. No problem, beause I sew! Ms. Eccentric has been sending me links and tips to help me sew knits. Yay. I turned my top inside out and attempted to take up some of the fabric and pin the shoulders. It sounds so much easier on paper. I needed a protracter and an advanced degree in geomentry to deal with the stripes and the fabric was so loosey-goosey that it was like trying to pin and sew Jello!

Never fear! I'll layer under a tank! The neckline was still so low. I took off the shirt and turned it around backwards a la Angie, but the cowl created a dowager's hump on my back under the trench (which is very tight and has no stretch). But it looks Parisian, so I can handle a little discomfort for the sake of style, right? I gave up on modifying my top's neckline and wore it the normal way with my scarf filling up the void. I looked good. Everything was going according to plan.

I stuffed my large wallet into my little black bag because I didn't have time to transfer the contents. I got in my car. My daughter's coat didn't *look* too small but when I grabbed the steering wheel, I could feel it bite into my armpits. No matter. It was a sunny day and I felt pretty excited and RATE with my curly hair and *new* outfit. My (daughter's) trench billowed out behind me as I strode confidently into Starbucks. There was a table full of people outside and I breezed past. I oozed a little French sophistication their way. No one looked up. I went in and found my friends. It was great to see them, and we had a nice time, but no one said a word about my appearance.

We drank our coffee and caught up. When I went to the restroom I noticed that the curl had started to fall out of my hair and it just looked messy (in a bad way)--like I hadn't had time to fix it. I patted some water on it and gave it a scrunch. I adjusted my clothing. Again. I came back to the table and worked on my French *attitude*. It was exhausting.

Finally it was time to leave and I had a few errands to run. I was starting to feel a litttle dishevelled at this point, but at least I might get a reaction from other people I would see. When I got to the drug store I noticed that I had shut my coat and belt in the car door and drug it all the way from Starbucks. And I thought that guy at the stop light was admiring my sunglasses. The pharmacist, who knows me, asked to see my ID. (okay, I made that part up). I checked my apperance in my car's mirror. The soul sucking beige trench coat had practically left it's teeth marks on my neck. My tinted lipbalm had worn off and I forgot to put it in my little purse. But I was determined. I chewed on my lips to get the blood flowing again.

I headed across the street to the market, trying to conjure up that "ooo la-la" feeling. There are usually a few old guys with missing teeth standing around that are good for a compliment or two. Not today. Apparently whatever was under their fingernails was more interesting than my fab new style. As I tugged at my wallet (which was wedged in my cute little bag) my phone and reading glasses flew out and hit the pavement. The poor Salvation Army bell ringer just looked the other way, embarassed for me. I hurriedly bought my items and slunk back to my car, slamming by coat in the door. Again.

I'm pretty sure I don't want to wear my hair like this again unless I happen to be in a tropical rain forest. You know how people post pictures and say, "Trust me, it looks better IRL"? Well my hair is the other way around. Trust me. It looks better in the pictures! A large part of my (emotional) discomfort today was due to the bad hair and the beige coat. My physical disfomfort was due to my ill-fitting wardrobe items. Even though everything looked great all laid out on the bed like a Polyvore, it didn't work today IRL.

Am I giving up on Parisian Style? Mais non! Like Ana's handbag buying strategy, I got to try the look cheaply (free in this case) before investing the big bucks. I'll be keeping my eye out for the perfect blue and white striped top and then we'll try this thing again. I'll just "clairify" the look by polishing it up a little and using a shorter coat! I'm in a very humble state of mind so I'll take any advice to heart. I promise.