Fashion advice from my husband

I know I'm not quite as fashionable as some of my girlfriends. And I know that I could be just a bit more fashionable with unlimited resources - but when you have to make do with styles several seasons old, well, you just make do.

It's also getting to the end of the summer, which means every time I walk into my closet, I feel like I've worn the same things over and over and over, and absolutely nothing appeals to me.

So like many of you, I try some new combinations, pull out an old shirt and see if a different belt or jewelry can bring it into 2008.

This morning I failed miserably. How miserably? So miserably that Mike - in all his fashion-forwardness - told me I looked like I belonged on a ranch in Wyoming.

And that's not the most upsetting part of the story. The most upsetting part is that he liked it. Didn't want me to change. Thought I wouldn't change, even after he said the phrase, "you look like you belong on a ranch in Wyoming."

For the record, because you may be confused - while this summer, I have, in fact, been on a ranch in Wyoming, on this particular morning, that's not where I was headed. Instead, I was headed for my downtown office in Washington, D.C. And even when I was on said ranch in Wyoming, on a horse no less, I was still in designer jeans and a polo shirt that complimented my eyes, thank you very much. I hope you can begin to see why I didn't take "you look like you belong on a ranch in Wyoming," as a compliment.

And if you can't see that - find another blog to read.

(Again, in full disclosure, I admit the outfit wasn't my finest. Khakis that are just a touch baggy, a button-down blouse with blue and yellow checks, brown belt and brown heals.)

Calm down - I took it off!

Back to this morning. The scene went like this: I get dressed in the closet, and walk out just as Mike walks out of the bathroom. He sees me, says The Phrase, and I swing on my heals and walk back into the closet without comment. Just like that - no time to think it over - I knew immediately that I must change.

This, of course, upset Mike. Because he quickly follows up with, "but I like that outfit!"

I start picking through clothes.

He says, "But why won't you leave it on if I like it?"

I pull out another pair of pants.

"You tell me what to wear!"

I roll my eyes. It's 6:40 a.m., no coffee yet. Do we really need to discuss that I don't pull out outfits that make him look like he's headed to a ranch in Wyoming? That, in general, it's just a given that at any particular moment, I'll pull out a better outfit for him than he would have otherwise picked out himself? Do we need to point out that he still has flannel shirts and jean shorts in his drawers?

Case closed.

I changed. I came to work. I'm online shopping.