Ugh, Mail.

Typically, I enjoy getting mail. I even welcome the familiar stack of "pre-approved" credit card applications that make the bi-weekly journey from my doorstep directly to my trash can. But some days, the awaiting delivery turns out to be my complete undoing, almost as if the mailbox had transformed into Pandora's Box while I was slaving away at a hospital night shift.

And why the sour attitude? Well, every once in awhile, a fashion brochure (how the hell do they find me?) will turn in up the mail, and it's usually not all that threatening. Granted, the floral day dress on the cover of the spring issue will absolutely not go unnoticed (and will probably end up in my closet), but summer catalogs with "perfect" women in their "perfect" bikini bodies on "perfect" yachts rarely tempt me into digging out my credit card. Typically, I throw them out after nothing more than the casual flip through.

Until the fall issue, that is. The fall issue, without proper warning and preparation, can be devastating on my budget.

Fact: I'm a huge sucker for fall clothing. The coats, the boots, the hats, the sweaters...it's all gold. I love the coziness, easy sophistication and simple stylishness of it all. Each article of clothing is meant to wrap you not only in a plush, soft fabric, but also in a feeling of confidence and stylishness. Suddenly, it becomes chic to cover up. The skin-showing overload of summer gives way to the tasteful body-conscious silhouettes of fall. I'm already on the prowl for a long sleeved minidress...

And those damn coats and scarves hanging in store windows...brutal. It's safe to say I'm a ridiculous fan; scarves are indeed my kryptonite, and as such, they belong in my closet, adding to my already substantial collection. I've also been craving a red peacoat since I was old enough to figure out what they were. It's always been a fantasy of mine to be the lone lady in red, walking down a silent street of white. I've had my eye on this one (pictured left) for the last two years.

Not so fast sweaters, you're not off the hook either. Sweaters shout at me from holiday magazine covers, and I feel I absolutely must have one for the upcoming snowed-in nights I'll be spending curled up by the fireplace, on a fur rug, drinking a glass of wine and eating chocolate truffles. See the crazy vignettes my brain creates to justify my purchases? We don't even own a fireplace. Or a fur rug.

And boots...oh don't get me started on boots. In my mind the only reason a leaf would fall from a tree is so it could be stepped on by a fashionable knee high boot. Right now I'm obsessed with anything that's worn and weathered. I don't want a new pair like the ones in the magazines (who am I kidding, I'd never turn them down), but I'm craving something that has a story behind it. A pair that looks as though they were formerly worn by a sheepherder in northern Ireland. Preferably with a heel so I can feel appropriately matched with my 6'5" boyfriend, but I'm not too picky. Oh and straps and buckles, lots and lots of straps and buckles, regardless of their uselessness in the real world.

So while this may be my favorite time of year, it's also my most difficult. We've already canceled the cable and I've gotten a second job, so I'm not about to do something stupid like buy a pair of boots.

God I love a good pair of boots...maybe just one pair...I've been so good...

Focus. I need to get through this. Sorry awesome fall coats, boots, hats, sweaters and scarves, but you're just going to have to wait until next year when I can buy you in a thrift store for 1/10 the price. Of course, I do have a closet swap party coming up on October 14, so lets just focus on that.

So tell me, what do you like about the fall?

You've all heard the saying...

"Dress for the job you want, not the job you have."

Or in my case, "Dress well enough to avoid being sent home to change."

I try, but lets make a quick run-through the list of my previous jobs during college and the attire required for them:


3.) Cherry Cannery Factory Worker: See description #1.
4.) Housekeeper: See description #1.

6.) Night Shift at the Psychiatric Hospital: Scrubs.


As you can see, I've never had a job that warrants me owning anything that can be considered "professional work attire". I have one pair of gray pants, one, and even those are three sizes too big. As my boyfriend recently put it, "Babe, unless you're planning on being a 'gansta counselor', we need to find you some pants that don't look like you just escaped from some sort of juvenile detentional facility."

Point taken.

Although I must say I think I've done a fairly decent job of stretching my wardrobe. At the start of my internship, I resorted to wearing my coat (a respectable looking plaid trenchcoat) the majority of the day because it meant I could wear the same outfit two or three times in a week without anyone noticing. People judge you for wearing the same outfit everyday, but not the same coat. Sneaky, right?

But as the summer heat rolled in, my trusty wardrobe savior became irrelevant, and I was forced to bow in defeat to the 90 degree weather and leave my coat at home. Finally, it was clear to all that I would be rotating through the same clothes all week, which the staff jokingly referred to as my "uniform". Might as well grab my Ninja Turtle lunch box while I'm at it. Oh the joy of being instantly recognized as the intern...

Through all of this though, I have found myself undergoing a kind of fashion transformation. In general, I can't say I've ever found myself attracted to "work" clothes. They seemed boring and constricting, stuffy and unoriginal. But the closer I get to getting an actual job that reflects the level of education I've completed the more I find myself drooling over blazers, pencil skirts and structured vests. In short, I now see them as a badge of honor: I am no longer the lowly intern, but someone who deserves to be there, knows what the hell I'm doing, and damnit I want to look like it.


I must go shopping.

However, today was the last day of my summer internship (30 hrs/wk, unpaid) which means the need for professional work attire is no longer urgent until I start my final internship this fall (46 hrs/wk, unpaid). I've begun applying for jobs in the hopes that one of them will count as an internship where I may actually be paid for my time (please please please pleeeeeease hire me...), but I know it's a long shot.

Regardless though, I know it's just one step closer to having a job I've spent forever earning, and therefore one step closer to being able to afford the clothes that display it. Heck, maybe in another semester I might actually look like a responsible adult with a real grown up job and everything!

Oh c'mon, I can dream can't I?