I've said it before: I don't make a very good girl. I'm certainly no boy, but I'm not a girly girl, either. I admit I could use some help in the wardrobe area and probably would need to spend the next year's salary just to bring me up to par with my sisters or cousins material possessions. Of course, that's excluding books and scrapbooking supplies; I do have my weaknesses.
Take for instance the night of my new sister-in-law's bachellorette party. I'm wearing a pair of jeans, a cranberry colored top (emphasising what little cleavage I have), a black see-through shirt overtop the cranberry, a brown belt, and brown shoes. Ok. Did you spot the faux-pas? Yep, black shirt, brown belt & boots. I figured the bar would be dark and no one would really pay all that much attention to my feet or waistline. Well, my little sister disagreed. Next thing I know I've got on her black belt and a pair of black boots I had forgotten I owned. But lit...