Forty = fancy
Today, friends, I am forty years old. Hurrah! A birthday, and so: Why not dress up? I mainly blame the subscription to Lucky that Sutswana somehow got, and which she passes on to me. It makes me want to be just slightly more chic. You’d think it would also make me want to wear wedge sandals, but it doesn’t. Maybe this is because I am all mature and 40 and everything.
I apologize for making you all turn your heads. For some confounded reason, I can’t get this photo to rotate. I am not a computer idiot. It keeps saying it’s rotated, but it forgot that I have eyes and can see that it’s still sideways. Maybe I am so sleep deprived that even photos of me try to lie down.
So I pulled together this outfit, wearing one of my most favorite skirts, bought at the Gap on a post-birth wardrobe overhaul with Zeile about seven years ago. It goes well with this new Target cardi, non? I should dress up more often. It was fun. But I also need some nice flats. I put on jeans at noon because I couldn’t feel my toes anymore. Do women really wear heels every day? Maybe I’ll get some espadrilles like Liz.
And that’s way more about fashion than about turning 40. I kind of like the idea of being 40. A new start! Now I am officially a grown-up, and will be responsible, work hard, and clean my toilet without expecting praise for it.
Today’s birthday is also exciting because I finally made the salted chocolate tart that my cousin Christina recommended two years ago. I’m pretty excited about it. I haven’t added the salt yet because I know I’m going to be the only one who wants the salt, and I don’t feel like dealing with the grousing. Let’s have my birthday be the day where no one complains about the food I put in front of them.