I get that a lot. No offense to any real life homeless people, but evidently I have nailed the homeless look. Odd, because I rarely leave my house unless it's to go to the gym or the grocery store. A better way to put it might be a homebody look.
Here's a recent example.
I went down a rabbit hole the other day on the internet and ended up on a blog about respecting and being submissive to your husband. I've got nothing against respecting your man, but I did have a good laugh when I read a line that went something like this, "Your husband spends all day around women who are well-groomed and attractively dressed so be dressed and ready when he comes home from work."
Guess I'm doing it wrong.
I'm pretty sure the pants are from when daughter number 2 was in eighth grade. She's now 21. I must have snagged these babies out of a Goodwill bag. Though you can't see it, the t-shirt I'm wearing is an Alabama cheerleading shirt confiscated from my son during his strength and conditioning interning days. The sweatshirt is literally on its fourth day of wear.
But the highlight is the jacket. I bought it 30 years ago at a trendy boutique in Sandestin, Florida as a Christmas present to myself the first year I was married. Paid a whopping 350 dollars. No joke. Made from a real antique quilt. It's still one of my favorite jackets.
I bring this up because as part of my minimalist agenda I've implemented this year, I'm going to be engaging in a closet purging exercise following the tips listed in A Practical Guide to Owning Fewer Clothes on Becoming Minimalist.
I feel like I'm already ahead of the game. Recycle? I'm doing it already. I love hand-me-downs from my kids. Quality over quantity? That jacket breaks down to about 11 bucks a year for 30 years of enjoyment. Good investment, I would say.
I think the last tip is my favorite.
Impress with your character, not your clothes. Lee Mildon once said, “People seldom notice old clothes if you wear a big smile.”