What Not to Wear is ending this summer after ten seasons.
My first reaction:
"NOW HOW AM I GONNA KNOW WHAT NOT TO WEAR?!"
(Matt: "I'm pretty sure you know. They've been telling you for TEN YEARS.")
Still.
Stacy and Clinton are practically my work colleagues, filling up the noon-hour void as I eat lunch solo on the couch.
I shop with "What would Stacy wear?" echoing in my head. I even tried on a multicoloured dress yesterday! I own blazers! And heels!
They make the frumpy and frazzled feel good about themselves. They champion individuality and self-acceptance. My poor husband has more than once tapped me on the shoulder to make me pay attention to their pep talks. (Not because I can't dress myself, but because I don't always see myself accurately in the mirror.)
Sigh.
Stacy and Clinton, thanks for the tips. And the reruns.