It’s inevitable: That moment in the day when I open my closet and sigh in utter disgust. I cannot lay blame on individual pieces for the disappointment. The potential to pair any of them lacks severely.

What am I most likely to do in this situation? Reach for jeans. And I kind of hate jeans. They’re so tight in my thunder zone (read, upper thighs). But I do have a new favorite to dust off for spring – my AG Simonas. They are buttery soft thanks to some mystery material called Lyocell, about 1/2 size too big, and lightweight so the pussycat can breath.

I believe firmly that if habits cannot change, but you wish to change your habits, work with them. Therefore, I will allow myself to reach for them more than conscience tells me I should; however, I will pair them with unfussy, simple, pretty things: few of which I own.

Although previously anti-clutch, I’m coming around to the idea of carrying less. Kind of like how I favor renting vs. owning a home. I don’t want more responsibility in life. I want less. Besides, aren’t we all renting?

Back to clutches. I have a sparse collection of mostly evening clutches. I want larger, sleeker daytime clutches. Cuffs are the only bold type of jewelry I can stand to wear anymore: I don’t  know how many times I’ve bent over and almost taken my front teeth out with a chunky necklace. Plus, I’m puny and can’t deal with the extra weight around my neck. I recently ordered some sparkly but understated druzy earrings from GILT. I hope I like them because they are not returnable (which I prefer because I became caught in a refunded credit cycle with them that HAD TO STOP).

We’ve already covered my desperation for blouses.