(shout-out to Jordan, my excellent fake husband for the evening, who - though a complete stranger till that evening - let me keep his arm and supplied me with ice and cheesecake when necessary.)
The red gown was found in a rush for $7 at Goodwill and though it wasn't a purchase based off of how excellent it looked on me, I did end up liking it pretty well. I feel like the red dress emoji and that's pretty fun, actually. Thankfully I don't have a fracture and my main complaint will be that I cannot wear heels for the next eight weeks. And I had just bought my single self some Ivanka Trump leopard-print specimens for Valentine's Day. NO HEELS FOR EIGHT WEEKS. My gosh, what a blow. That being said, actual style-posts might be slightly hampered in the next two months by the fact that I'm wearing a huge old gel-pack brace. Or you might just see "real life" posts including my darling gel-cast, glaringly un-stylish against the rest of the outfit. Just a fair warning. For now, this is my life at work:
Kids understand traffic cones so their mother put them out. They go with me everywhere and this keeps the girls' Tigger tendencies at bay on my bad leg. Ah me. No heels for eight weeks. No HEELS for eight WEEKS. I think I will go cradle my new Ivanka Trump heels and weep a little weep into the shoe leather.