Most women fall into certain patterns or categories when it comes to fashion: classic, safe, edgy, sexy, preppy, casual, glam, etc. I’ve prided myself on not fitting into any one category. Yes, it’s true that on a typical weekend you will likely find me wearing shorts and a tank top or jeans and a tank top or a skirt and….a tank top! What the heck?!
Dear Reader, I’ve manipulated you and I’m sorry. I didn’t just realize that I’m obsessed with tanks. I realized it a few weeks ago, but I wanted you to go through the experience with me so that you’d know what my moment of realization felt like. Beside this here blog, I’ve allowed myself one form of social media: Instagram. It is this medium that made me aware that me and tank tops, particularly black ones, seem bound in some common destiny. Have we been soul mates all along? After taking a picture and realizing that I was wearing a tank top similar to the last five photos I’d taken with my phone, I knew I had a problem. Not gonna lie, I was a little bit angry that none of my friends had put together an Intervention for me. How long have I been walking about looking like a clone of myself from the previous day?
Don’t get me wrong. I clean up well, and I love for my clothes to match my mood– who I am or want to be that day. Apparently, my weekend self is Girl Who Wants to Be Comfortable While Also Showing Off Her Killer Biceps. I will try harder to diversify. But my biceps won’t be denied.