I try to stear clear of click bait-y titles but the title of this post is actually really accurate.
In high school, college, and my first four years of marriage, I had a wall mirror in my bedroom. Each morning I’d grab a haphazard smattering of items I liked at the time and attempt to pull an outfit together that both fit and said something about me as a person (‘cause I’m a millennial, guys). I’d try this shirt with those pants and those shoes with that necklace, in front of my wall mirror, until I felt good about how I looked.
When we moved from San Diego, one of the items I felt wasn’t worth shipping across the country was my trusty Home Goods wall mirror. And we quickly realized after moving to our tiny apartment in the District that there really wasn’t any room to place a wall mirror. Seriously. We have a bathroom mirror, but for those who don’t know, I’m very short and there’s no way I could see an entire outfit in that thing.
No wall mirror, no personal fashion show. No nit-picking every item of clothing I own, obsessing about how it looks on me or what it says about me as a person. My routine now? I have about ten items of clothing that are work appropriate. Each morning, I grab a combination of those items and ask Matt, “How does this look?” He’ll either say, “Looks great!” or, “Don’t you have nude flats?” That’s it. I trust his opinion about how I look and I walk out the door and head to work.
Sure, when I get to work and look in the bathroom wall mirror, there have been days where I’ve thought, “Dang it! I should have worn that top with this skirt.” or, “My black flats would have looked better.” But by that point, who cares? I’m at work, I’m clothed, and my husband said I looked great. I’m good with that.