I've totally lost all fashion credibility.

I mean, it's not like I had much to start out with. But for the SECOND day in a row, I have somehow come to the office in stained pants. Ok, say it with me now: CLASSY.

Yesterday I kinda knew what I was getting myself into because it started out as a crappulous day. My family is sick right now (my husband got something at school and brought it home to incubate--thus infecting everyone in a 10 mile radius of my front door), and so I rushed around yesterday morning, doling out Tylenol Cold and washing dried snot off of cheeks as I got ready for work. I felt so lucky when I found my favorite jeans laying in the floor--hey, at least I didn't have to look for them. I put them on, put on a cashmere sweater that makes me feel better (because nothing goes with stains quite like cashmere), snapped on some hoop earrings and left. I realized on the way to work that there was a humungo stain right on the shin. Like just a bunch of white stuff. I tried to pick it off, but it wasn't coming. I have no idea what it was/is. My best bet is some kind of food detritus, but again, no clue. My husband thinks it looks like a stain of the Monica Lewinsky variety (now there's a dated reference!). Anyway, it stayed on my shin all freaking day. I tried to ignore it.

Then today, I put on The Holy Denim Trousers, actually pulling them off of the hanger in my closet where they had been lovingly hung. I put them on with a purple Dream sweater from J Crew that I just got in the mail yesterday (yea!) and my dark red peep toes. I looped a teal pashmina around my neck. I liked it--the colors didn't match but they did "go". I came to work feeling sassy. However, wouldn't you know that as soon as I stepped out of my car this morning I discovered that this time, there was a skinny, oblong stain on my thigh. Probably just coffee I thought. But no. It's an actual stain. And it's there. Calling out for the world to see. Now I'm going to have to hand wash my pants when I get home, which I'm not really cool with, but seriously, I would do anything short of sell off a kidney to keep these things in running order.

And here's the piece of fashion wisdom I'm going to impart to you. Keep your hair trimmed and in good fashion. Seems unrelated, but hear me out. I need a haircut--hella bad actually. My hair looks rough. And I haven't gotten a cut, the chief reason being that I just haven't gotten around to getting an appointment and there always seems to be something better to do, and whatever. If my hair were looking fine, it probably wouldn't matter one damn bit about my pants--I might not even notice. But because my hair isn't right, and looks overgrown and sad and underappreciated suburban mom (which I guess I am, but damn if I want to look like one), everything just seems a little bit worse. Does that make sense?

I think I'll make an appointment this weekend.