- in the photo--both photos, since I took two--I appear to be standing in a dank, darkened place. Such as my gym, in the entrance to the ladies' locker room. Though it's bright in the room, I'm standing in the entrance, which is dark, as if I had had to come through an uncertain and dim passage before bursting into health and fitness. In other words, you really can't even see my shoes. Which, trust me, were cute. I wore man-shoes, brogue-ish, in a cordovan leather. In the picture, you could maybe see a glint of light off the toe of the leather.
- All the textures are elided in the bad light and, it must be said, the bad photography. There is velvet (skirt). There is a voluminous, romantic cardigan, dusty rose, with different knit stitches. There is a lilac pink sweater with zips at the shoulders (gold). Navy blue tights. All these textures are as nothing, because the photograph (photographer?) did not deliver, not remotely.
- I felt rushed. There were ladies coming in and out around me. I thought I could take the picture quickly and it would be all dashing and devil-may-care. No, instead I looked fretful and concerned and sheepish, all at once, as if I were standing in a doorway, while ladies were streaming in and out and they were all, why is she standing there, taking her own picture? Does she not know this is a gym? She should get on her yoga pants already and get busy. Which: I totally was, I totally should have, and, in the end, totally did.
You're just going to have to trust me when I say: the outfit was good.
Thankfully, I did not bungle a photo of the sky, which was also beautifully dressed: