I went clothes shopping today, despite having a closet and a half stuffed with sweaters, pants, skirts, and jackets. But I've recently realized that I don't like many of them, whether I bought them five years ago or this past summer. I'm taking a hard look at everything I put on these days in an effort not to look frumpy. (Or is the word I'm looking for "old"?) So as comfortable as my loose-fitting sweaters are, if they don't pass the "does this sweater make my torso look sixty-ish?" test, they need to be replaced.
One problem is that I often shop alone. I know I should sweet-talk one of my younger or hipper friends into coming along for encouragement and honest appraisal. But when I shop with friends, even the young and/or hip variety, I'm usually too intent on the gossip and the lovely girltalk to look for clothes. Or I gladly stand by while my companion tries on her selections, but I brush off any suggestion that I go and look for my own.
This afternoon, in my solo pursuit, I purchased two jackets from Chico's, my favorite retailer. I'm hoping that watching episode after episode of "What Not to Wear" has strengthened my ability to choose wisely. I guess I'll just have to wear them and wait for the compliments ... or the awkward silence.