paint it black

These leggings, bought in 2007 at the height of my I need leather leggings but the American Apparel knockoffs shall have to suffice frenzy, have slowly become less pleathery and more, um, worn-in. Meaning just this side of sheer. I think they'll have to be moved from the shelf of pants in my armoire and into the drawer of tights so I have the reminder to not wear them solo.
(I can feel C smirking at me right now. Hi, C. You can shame me lightly for this if you so choose.)

I'm inching ever closer toward the Tights Are Not Pants line here, aren't I? No matter: today is a day off, which means a day of errands where my lack of proper pants was covered by my trenchcoat in most situations, and now I can lounge around in my leggings at home and enjoy the snow falling in the courtyard.

Long cardigan/swobe thingy, bought in undergrad, origin forgotten;
v-neck, American Apparel; faux-leather leggings, American Apparel;
flats, Steve Madden; watch, Marc Jacobs but it's falling apart oh no;
nail polish, Sally Hansen Insta-Dri in Uptempo Plum that looks not at all
plum when you put it on, but really just black.
Whatever, it's been chip-free for three days, so I don't care.