As Catherine mentioned, our “State of the Blog” meeting earlier this week devolved into a tutorial on how she should be using Pinterest (I have a pin that’s been repinned over 400 times. Not to toot toot, but I’m pretty good at this.)
I have no idea why this pin was so popular. I mean, it's a cute outfit, but still...
One of the good things that came out of this meeting (other than the Valentine’s Day Starbursts she gave me) was her showing me these shoes she bought:
Which are so fecking adorable, I just ordered the exact same pair for myself. We have a pretty lenient policy in my family towards copycat dressing. After an incident when I was in 5th grade and Catherine bought the same black fleece vest from Express that I had, and I pouted for a week, we’ve been pretty forgiving when one person buys something the other has. Because imitation is the highest form of flattery! So she and I have, among other things, the exact same winter coat. And Sperry Top-Siders. And sunglasses. I could go on, but I think you get the idea. We probably get this from our mother. First of all, she liked to dress us alike when we were little.
Just kidding. She was not responsible for dressing us in matching crushed velvet leotards. This was for a dance recital. Here is us actually dressed alike, probably from Christmas:
Also, she is also the worst offender on the copycat front. My mom is the only person I like to go shopping with, because she has great taste and, as mentioned before, I am a terror to shop with and she is the only person who doesn’t make me feel guilty for taking an eternity to decide what I want to buy. However, our shared tastes and shopping trips have resulted in her copying many of my purchases. Off the top of my head, I know we own the same pair of white jeans, a pair of capris and a skirt from Anthropologie, as well as numerous blouses and dresses from Ann Taylor. Which presented a problem mainly because, up until recently, we worked in the same building. And would go get Diet Cokes together most afternoons. And after the first few times we met in the lobby wearing the exact same outfit, we realized we had to start planning this a little better.
The best part was, most of the time she wouldn’t tell me she was buying the same thing as me, and would instead go back to the store and pick it up surreptitiously, and then try to hide it from me for as long as possible. For example, we were once shopping in Talbots (yes, Talbots! They pulled an Ann Taylor and are having a resurgence. Trust.), and while she was in the dressing room, apropos of absolutely nothing, she says, “Maggie, I have to tell you something.” Which naturally I assumed was going to be either that she was dying or divorcing my father, because I am a maniac and that is immediately where my head goes. Instead it was to tell me this: Remember the raincoat I had bought at the after-Christmas sales in December? Well, a few months later, she accidentally on purpose bought the same one, and had been hiding it from me. Literally. She once saw me outside of our office building in my coat when she was wearing it and HID FROM ME so I wouldn’t know she had bought the same coat as me. Needless to say I did not care, although it did add another level of complication to our Diet Coke dates from then on.
Anyways, the TOMS shoes are backordered until at least April 10th, which means when they finally arrive I will have totally forgotten about them, and it will be like getting a special gift from a secret admirer. And it will be spring and I will wear them everywhere and be so, so happy.
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