coffee, black

This morning, I was, for once, awake at a decent hour. This is opposed to my very very bad habit of waking up at 7:45 when I absolutely must leave the house no later than 8:15 and running around half-dazed until I step outside and the cold air shocks me into alertness. As I was conscious and mostly functional at 7:00, I had a moment to grab the camera and tripod for a pre-work outfit photo. I was rather pleased with my outfit choice for the day, and felt I was fulfilling the “stop looking boring” mandate.

I grabbed my mug of coffee, stood still for a few photos, and reviewed the pictures before heading out the door. Only by looking at photos did I realize that I was wearing one pointy-toed black leather boot, and one square-toed black leather boot. The heels on these boots are not even the same height.

The appropriate boot was swapped out, and more photos were taken, and this time I clutched my mug of coffee to me, as it was clear that I required a little extra caffeinated help for my brain. I’m a grown-up, and I can dress myself. Mostly.

(This afternoon at work, I touched up some scuffs on the toes of these boots with a black sharpie. +2 points for fixing the appearance of my shoes, -5 points for doing so with a permanent marker in lieu of black shoe polish.)

Ribbed cardigan, Target; houndstooth dress, Target; belt, vintage; watch, Nixon; generic and
snagged tights; wonderfully warm and lovely knee-high socks, Uniqlo; boots, Enzo Angiolini.