I’ve been working pretty much non-stop for a couple weeks now, so when my husband suggested getting dressed up this weekend to attend the ’80s Champagne Retrospectical at Beauty Bar I kind of jumped at the chance thinking it was a great way to cut loose a little while drunkenly singing old Madonna songs in public. Plus I love that Beauty Bar has glittery walls. I've decided this color goes with everything. So we spent the afternoon running errands, shopping and watching a movie while I tried on pretty much everything in my closet that wasn’t on work rotation, looking for something that was ‘80s inspired, without being anachronistic. Finally I settled on a leopard print dress with a short circle skirt, and was secretly freaking out about what shoes to wear because I knew we were walking. Ultimately though it didn’t matter because when I finally put the dress on, I walked around a few minutes, and suddenly the fact that it was cheap and bought on sale reared its ugly discount head when the zipper split, completely pulling off track. I swear the dress wasn’t too tight. As I cussed like a sailor I decided on another outfit, tried it on, and my husband, who will probably never make another suggestion again, said, “Try that top with your black cigarette pants. They’re a little dressier.” Kissing shoes.

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