fitzfabulous

I had a minor wardrobe meltdown this morning. Couldn’t find anything that worked. Granted, it wasn’t my usual office situation. I had to go to a writing conference full of people I’d never met, and I was riding my bike into the Loop instead of taking my car to the usual suburbs.

Nothing fit quite right. Most skirts were out because I couldn’t find any plain black tights without any holes. Wide pants are too tricky to bike in. Finally I came up with something, but it irked me that despite a closet of clothes, nothing was right. I think there’s too much clutter in there, too many distractions that seem like feasible options but for some reason, aren’t.

I’m going to an awards dinner tomorrow (Friday) night. A story I did at my last job - a piece I’m so proud of about notoriously and heartbreakingly corrupt suburban cops - is nominated among Chicago media. Sweet. But that same anxiety is kicking in - how do I look as proud as I feel, in bike-able gear?

I thought all week about making a dress from black jersey I bought in Philadelphia and am crazy about. But I haven’t been able to make anything right lately, and I’m so scared of ruining this chunk of fabric. My Minna top zipper broke so I’m going to have to redo it (no, it won’t repair. already tried that). And I made up a cute cap mockup in scrap denim but it was too small. Tried to do it again, paying closer attention to the pattern, but the second one turned out too small too. I’m scared of spending precious free time on projects that will leave me more frustrated than when they were still optimistic possibilities.

Maybe it’s just one of those nights.