Year of the (Down) Dog

Apparently this is the year I get super into yoga. I just counted on Daily Mile and today was the 111th day of 2014 and I did my 93rd yoga practice of the year. (Mostly classes at a studio, three or four podcasts at home.) I’ve gone almost every day, with a slump in March when I was sick and then traveling. I finally splurged on a monthly membership and then, motivated to get my money’s worth, I just found myself showing up most evenings and some mornings, planning my day around classes with my favorite teachers, and getting a little weird. There are colored strings representing each of the seven chakras tied around my wrist right now. So there’s that.

A friend asked me if I was feeling quite flexible, and I had to say no, I don’t really feel much difference in my flexibility. But I feel incredibly strong. I couldn’t do a proper chaturanga before; I had to modify on my knees or do that fake thing where you start to lower yourself down but then you just kind of slide into updog, waving a quick hello to chaturanga as you drive by but don’t stop to chat. But now! I’ve got the real thing going on with that solid pause in the middle. Even one legged on a good day.

I also think it’s making me a better person. More calm. More grateful. Less judgmental. (A little.)

So. Here I am, contributing to the cacophony of bragging about work outs on the internet. I’ve certainly gone through my zealot phases before. With running, with Jillian Michaels videos, with swimming, then with triathlons, and now yoga. It’s an even more expensive hobby than doing tris, but I suppose as far as expensive habits go, there are much, much worse ways to spend your money.

 

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Black Pants: My Journey Through Polyester and Back

True fact: there was a time in my life when I did not own one pair of black pants. On principal. Because every sorority girl at my university (except me) seemed to wear only black pants ever, and I was not interested in dressing like them. Oh, Past Mel. Such a special snowflake rebel.

But any regular workout regimen probably involves a good amount of black pants. I had somehow been scraping by with one oft-laundered pair of black knee pants, purchased at Target five or six years ago. I just wore them for everything. They fit, they have a pocket in the back that’s big enough for my phone, what else do you need?

Then my stock doubled; my parents bought me a very fancy pair of CW-X running tights for Christmas. But those are really just for running. They’re not comfortable for biking or yoga.

The other day, though, I held up my trusty Target knee pants and realized if I held them up to the light, I could see directly through them. Especially in the part worn thin in the booty. Which means in just the right light, in just the right pose, I was probably flashing people in yoga. Sorry, yoga friends!

So yesterdayI became a lady who owns sort of fancy yoga pants. Fancy I guess in that they are basically special pants I bought just for yoga, and fancy because they were a whopping $62. (They’re these Nordstrom brand ones, if you’re interested in that sort of thing.) I tried on maybe a dozen pairs total.

I’m a little embarrassed to own $62 black stretchy pants, but I figured the nicer ones from Target are $30-40 anyways, so I was only spending a little more for what I presume is a better product, though that’s probably 100% BS rationalizing since my last Target ones have lasted this long. But I mean…Nordstrom is also closer to my house. So…I also saved maybe a nickel on gas? Yeah. There are few purchases I can’t rationalize.

And! Definitely no flashing. I did a lot of this to make sure. And then took pictures to share with you fine folks.  You’re welcome.

Because I’m worth it! To me from me Frye Boots.

If you have seen me at any point in the past three weeks, odds are I was wearing these boots.

After coveting them online for months, I bought these boots for myself as a birthday present. I started to say they are the most expensive thing I have bought for myself, but that’s not true because I have bought myself a computer and a house and a car. They are possibly the most extravagant thing I have ever bought for myself.

I justified the leather (and the cost) based on the reputation of Frye boots as lasting forever. Like, hand them down to your granddaughter forever. So, rather than spending $40 on a new pair of “man-mad materials” every year, I figure this is the last pair of boots I’m allowed to buy until I’m forty (seriously).

Plus, they’re called Melissa Button Boots. My name is Mel(issa) and I have an ardent love for buttons. Meant to friggin’ be.

I posted this in October while browsing the Ann Tayor by my office.  I counted how many Ann Taylor dresses I owned a few months ago, and I think I came up with something like 22 (with solidly over one third that came with belts). I know I tend to gravitate towards the same thing over and over.  I recently acquired my third yellow cardigan.  I just bought four pairs of these flats because I love them and since they’re only $12 I know they will fall apart and I will be glad to have backups.  I own two pairs of my favorite earrings because I’m afraid I will lose one.

Aaaand, so here’s what I wore to go shopping yesterday.  Long Ann Taylor cardigan!

I tried on armloads of clothes.  Dresses, tops, skirts.  Banana Republic, Ann Taylor, Target.  And here’s what I chose to buy:

(I also own two dresses and two tops in this same color.)

(Mmm, yes, I have this same sweater but it’s cable knit.)

What?  I like Ann Taylor’s long cardigans.  It’s not being boring and/or being stuck in a rut.  It’s called signature style.

I may or may not have also bought a dress I already own, just in another color.  I like what I like!  I can’t help it.

(PS, pink guy was marked down from $70 to $15, and white guy from $130 to $12. Just bragging.)