TLC's What Not to Wear

is one show of which I've become a fan. Do I wait for Clinton and Stacy to sweep down on me and show me how ridiculous I look? No. Do I fantasize about five thousand dollars to spend on nothing but clothes for myself? Not really.
What I have discerned, though, is that it really doesn't take any more time or effort to put on clothes that flatter and fit (which I suppose is redundant) than it is to just throw on jeans and an old sweatshirt. One need not sacrifice comfort, either. There is also the subtext that flattering clothes are available within our price range, which does not involve jetting off to New York for $250 shoes or $400 suits.
It has affected how I dress, in that I've figured out that my shoulder seams belong on my actual shoulder, and not somewhere on my bicep (such as it is).
And T-shirts with holes from the guinea pig that died almost five years ago are probably past their prime.
And shoes that are older than my marriage could probably be replaced.

I've got a post brewing about living in three quarters of our house, with an extra person, without the backyard, and the five of us sleeping in our bedroom. All because of the heat.

See you in a couple days, and check out Dale's fisk while you're waiting.