breaking the rules – how to break free when your internal fashion gestapo is screaming “halt!”

i need help. (ok, not like that.)

i need help with this –

a long long time ago, when i was young and naive and trying to make sense of all the terrible fashion choices that buffeted my innocent eyeballs each day as i darted between “ENG102” and “GOV101,” i made a list of very strict and very mandatory rules regarding appropriate attire.

in hindsight, i understand that the real issue was this: leggings and uggs. it got particularly sticky when the owner of said items was under the impression that these items were actually the same as “pants and boots,” and wore them as such.

like i said though, i was young, and perhaps a bit hasty in my thought process, and so my Number One Rule For Dressing Myself became this:

1. i, diana, will never ever wear brown and black at the same time.

the problem though, is that this just doesn’t really work for me any more.


because then i’d have to rule out things like this:

roseate spoonbill
roseate spoonbill

and this:

kennedy holmes
kennedy holmes

and if we’re going to be totally honest with each other, both of those magnificent photographs were just uploaded from the “HolyShitAwesome!!” folder on my computer.

so what’s the problem?

me. that’s the problem.

as much as now i see the error in my rash ruling against the black-brown combo, i still can’t get comfortable pulling it off myself.

i did it to myself – i know – but please, tell me i’m not the only one who just can’t will themselves to break a stupid self-imposed fashion rule.
and then share with me – oh brave, brave readers that you are – how you whooped that stupid rule’s ass.