I’ve reached an interesting new point in stress, where if I could wear a cable-knit cocoon nonstop, I would. Without hesitation, I would crawl into my fuzzy cocoon and stumble about my life like some parade entertainment or a Nick Cave sculpture. My hair would be in an unwashed braid, my eyes would be free of the ever-annoying mascara, and my feet would be engulfed in those aloe-infused slipper-socks.
But I can’t have that.
You wanna know what else I can’t have? An affordable wedding, apparently. We’re about one week into wedding planning, and I’ve already been priced out of nearly every venue in the greater St. Louis area — and since the venue determines the date, I can’t move forward with anything else. It. Is. Frustrating. Like, really frustrating. I’ve gotten at least two nausea-inducing price quotes and am sure I’ll hear more. Hand me a tissue and/or pour me a double, because there are few ways to deal with extreme frustration like this that don’t involve panic-tears or panic-booze. For now, all I really want to do is crawl into bed and sleep for the next twelve or so hours.
But I can’t do that.
Nope, I’ve got to go to work. Oh, work! Don’t you always get in the way of everything! Going to work means not sleeping in and not wearing a knit cocoon, no matter how much you want to. And I’ve got to keep looking for venues; there are a few promising leads, and the venue is sort of a big part of the wedding, so I can’t really skip it. No cocoon I guess… If I have to get dressed, the only thing I want is an easy, comfortable outfit — like the office version of the knit cocoon.
That I can handle. Enter the shirt dress.
If shirt dresses were a product that required advertising, the slogan would be Shirt Dress – Because Society Frowns on Cocoons. Damn society, always ruining the fun.
Despite my current disdain for real attire, I’m obsessed with my new shirt dress. I recently picked up this chambray beauty (complete with un-pictured tie belt) at Pitaya in the Delmar Loop. I’ve worn this shirt dress twice this week: once belted and once with a loose summer dress layered on top, because I just wasn’t feeling snug anything that day. This frock is multi-season and can be accessorized or simply put on. It barely wrinkles, matches everything, and is perfectly soft. Talk about a wardrobe staple.
In case you don’t believe me, let me end with this: I recently wore the dress from the office to shopping with a friend, then accidentally fell asleep in it with the lights on because it’s that comfortable. I’m about to go to bed and I don’t really care if I find pajamas because of this mad-rad comfort. Don’t you wish you could say that about your pencil skirt?
Comfort, ahoy! (I need some sleep.)