The First Thanksgiving

From library stacks to rock concerts by way of Broadway we go to my next topic of conversation on this exceedingly verbal day: embracing your inner Native American. (Say whattttt!?) Though most of my readers know me in the flesh (ha, all 9 of you… technically!), those who are mere passersby in the world of web surfing have probably come to know that my daily ensembles combine traces of J.Crew, Lilly, Vineyard Vines, Polo, and whatever else I can scrounge up at Marshalls to create a look that’s not necessarily original, but one that is certainly my own (Read: I wear more fluorescent pink in winter than Elle Woods and I am completely fine with that!). Maybe it was my summer in the city, or maybe it’s just the heat (made ever worse by Times Square’s breeze-crippling buildings), but I am SO drawn to the following two Minnetonka items: I can already hear my dear roomie, JT, making fun of me for donning this pair of calf booties. There’s just something about these fringy ladies that makes me want to embrace my inner Pocahontas, sing about the colors of the wind, and rescue a John Smith of my own. While these mocs don’t make me want to stand on the edge of a Virginia cliff wondering how high a Sycamore can grow or what’s around the river bend, they do make me ponder the extra oomph they’d give a pair of skinny jeans!

I’m really going to miss these scrumptious paychecks come September. My spending habits need some serious reevaluation...

EDIT: Get ready, Squanto. In 3-9 days, I'll have my fringy footwear, fit for no one but an Indian princess!