It looks like something you might wear on a job interview, and thus can put across a more strait-laced impression than you prefer.

Then don't wear them. There's no rule that says you have to wear them together. If the occasion supports matching, match. If it doesn't don't. All the pieces on that list have their places.

Oh, I see. Yes, there's no reason not to treat suit pieces as separates, if they can function that way. (I've seen a fair number of suit jackets that just look wrong when they're not worn as part of a suit.) I thought we were talking about what you wear, not what you own.

I'm not convinced there's a place in my life for a sweatsuit, or anything sweatsuit oriented. This would possibly explain the presence of cottage cheese in my butt.

Sweats are for wearing in cold weather around the house because I do not like being cold. Or really, long sleeve tshirts, sweat material pants of some ilk and a fleece jacket.

I pretty much wear the comfiest & least binding things when I am home for the day. Which means I'm usually only in street-wearable clothes 10 hours a day. Even jeans come off when I'm in for the day. Saves picking cathair of everything I own. If I put a bra back on and am not wearing the trashiest, mismatched version of "sweats", I could wear them out. But I don't.

I have to wear clothes for work.

Unless I am working at home. Then I can work naked.

I love my company.

I have the classic white shirts. They're required when tarting up as a schoolgirl for going to shows.

The rest? Eh. Not really.

I am wearing my soon-as-I-am-in-for-the-night uniform. Pajama pants and a soft cotton t. And, most relaxicating for me, NO BRA. I get cranky on those nights we are going out and I have to keep the proper underpinnings on.

And, most relaxicating for me, NO BRA. I get cranky on those nights we are going out and I have to keep the proper underpinnings on.

Tell me about it. I need to wear a bra for both aesthetics and physical reasons. But I'm so glad to dispense with the things.

I am so very glad Big Boss crashed our potluck lunch today, as she gave everyone blanket encouragement to wear tennis shoes to the NAEYC conference in a couple of months despite the business casual dress code. I'd intended to anyway, since my dress shoes drew blood when I wore them to IRA last year, but it's good to have official approval.

I would love to have that surgery (once affordable and well-proven) where you get an internal bra. That'd rock. Most of mine are comfortable enough that I don't dislike wearing them, but it's not a 24/7 thing.

My at-home uniform is determined as much by "will I mess this up?" and "can I wear this again?" as it is by "ow. no fun."

Just found Theresa Weiler on Facebook, and for those of you who go back that far (bon and shrift especially), she's a mother of two and seems very cheery. I have a polaroid of the four of us on my fridge still.

I just realised how late it is. Acupuncturist never called back. That makes tomorrow a little more complicated.

That's fab about Theresa. I hope she's learnt to drive in the meantime!

I always think of her "coloratura BITCH!" bit.