Polos and Pearls

So it's been almost a week since my big interview and I have been stalking my phone ever since. The majority of people in my phone are categorized by their ringers as I am an infamous call screener. Whenever the "general" ring tone goes off (Maneater by Nelly Furtado- I love everything about Nelly Furtado), my heart starts racing and I run to the phone. An act that is quickly followed by disappointment and slight anger at the caller- how dare you call me to say hi!? don't you know I'm expecting a big phone call? ugh!!!! I try to live life with the philosophy that what's meant to be will work itself out. I'm definitely a believer that you can only do so much and its up to fate to take it the rest of the way.... so c'mon fate, if you could hurry it up a bit I'd really appreciate it. You've got a girl here with button imprints on her palm from clutching the phone so tightly.

In other news, I have recently begun a quest to find the perfect madras skirt. This task, that once began as a simple thought, "I really like madras", has spun into a holy grail, Homer-esque saga of epic proportions. Very few people in the world understand the components that go into the perfect madras skirt. It should have the appropriate length (preferably a little bit above the knee- I can't handle those mini, bend over and see the goods, can't sit, Britney/Lohan shot, always tugging at type skirts. It also needs to be the right color consistency. There are so many variations out there, baby blues, pinks, etc but I really want to find the classic color scheme, reds, blues, yellows.

Since beginning my hunt for the holy madras, it's like my eyes have become these honing beacons. Shopping becomes the hunt, the quest, the ultimate conflict of any good story. Upon entrance to any mall or store, I immediately begin scouring the place for the telltale print and familiar pattern. Once I catch sight of one, I swoop it up before it can escape. My heart is racing, palms sweating, smile across my face. Success at last! To my dismay, it's always too short. always. always. always. I'm not 12, I'm not Mary-Kate or Ashley Olsen. I cannot wear a skirt that is 3 inches long. I sigh, look at it longingly for another minute or so and put it back in its hiding spot. I may have lost the battle, but I haven't lost the war. The search will continue and I will not give up. In the meantime, I managed to find a really cute madras headband from J. Crew that fills the vacant spot in my wardrobe that only madras can fill....

I wouldn't mind this fabulous Lilly dress as a stand-in though...