Trends vs reality

Spring is in the air. I can feel it. Just one more freak snowstorm left before we can all breathe a sigh of relief. But only for a moment, because now the shops will try to inflict more wierd trends on us, in the name of Spring.

Caving to the pressure, I've whipped out my new gaucho pants from Express. Not quite pant, not quite short, this is my 'transitional' item from winter to spring. As I'm wearing them with boots right now, I'm feeling very 'gaucho'. I have become a gaucha traversing this city, masquerading as a cog in the corporate wheel. My repressed, gaucha heart searches for my urban herd. I take high, horse-like steps with my hands on my hips, as I walk across the office. I do a shimmy and salsa dance in a circle, before handing over a fax. I scream Ole! and lasso my co-worker, mistaking her for a cow.

My new boyfriend, Lazario, he of the smoldering eyes

A typical day at work might be something like:

Boss man: M, do you have the monthly analysis?

Me: Si, senor. (Clap my hands and stomp my foot)

Co-worker: M, did you finish the copy for the new brochures?

Me (dramatic gasp): Ayeeeee! Dios Mio! I forgot! And it's Senorita M to you, muchacha!

Co-worker to boss: What the hell is she on???

***

Yes, my urban gaucho look makes as much sense as the nautical theme, which are all featured heavily in store windows right now. The whole pseudo-Ralph Lauren look of navy and white stripes, capris, and scarves in the hair. And the sunglasses, you can't forget the sunglasses. Sailing along with P. Diddy in St. Tropez, we realize the inner Jackie O inside of us. We realize the life not lived while sitting in a cubicle, getting tan from the fluorescent lights.

Bullshit.

Have you ever tried wearing white pants in New York City? Oh it's so much fun. Besides, the closest to a boat I'm going to get this summer is a dinghy, floating on the oil-infested waters of the East River.

I left my other yacht on the 6 train

Sailing for me is sidewalk-surfing on the garbage melting in the middle of August. Tell me, how do you market the nautical look to...say, the landlubber who lives in Kansas? "These docksiders are perfect for pitching bales of hay, I tell ya!"

No, aspirational fashion just doesn't cut it for me anymore. My delusions are entertained much more cheaply just by writing in this blog.