Have you ever noticed how the fashion mags love EVERYTHING French? It could be crap on toast, but as long as it's French, it's fabulous. Or fantastic. Or, you-must-buy-this-now-dammit-NOW-or-you-will-look-so-five-seasons-ago. Loser.
I never bought into this ideology myself, until last week. Last week, I went to Express to try on the shiny shiny shiny sequin tanks on sale for only $10. They are SO DISCO. Unfortunately, they are SO UNPRETTY on my pear-shaped bod.
But Express ALSO had lovely t-shirts that scoop low in the front and the back, with ties across the back to hold the shoulders up, and then the ties dangle down in the back and have silver doo-dads attached to them (shiny!). And (last and, promise) one of these lovely shirts comes in a black and grey stripe. So French! So Fabulous! So I-Want-One-NOW! So I bought one, in a size medium, for $10 - well within my guidelines.
Worn with slim jeans and ballet flats, I am a French rocker chick in Paris in the early 80's before everyone's hair got unfortunately large. And, although I am trying to dress like a grown-up this season, I feel utterly young and hip in it, without being all cutesy-poo. Like Audrey, not Audrina (for those of you who watch The Hills, you'll understand that reference).
As soon as I get a decent picture of me in the shirt, I'll post it. So you, too, can see all the French fabulousness.