Rare indeed is the day when I return from a morning at the coffee shop and think, “You know what? This afternoon, I’d like to iron.” Given the newfound demands upon my social life (and my wardrobe) thanks to match.com, I figured I’d better take advantage of this sudden inclination to iron while I had the chance. Dating (and dressing for) half a dozen men, as it turns out, requires one to become something of a domestic goddess.
I’m two and a half weeks in and I’ve been on seven and a half dates (the “half” was my birthday and even though it wasn’t a date, Date #4 stopped by. This means he saw me in my new blue dress, which in turn means that said blue dress will have to take an early retirement, at least until I convince myself that double dipping, in this case, is okay).
To date, I have not repeated an outfit, and even though Date #3 has no idea what I wore when I went out with Date #2 unless he reads my blog (oh wait, he does, and he’s none too thrilled about it), I’m committed to approaching each new day—and each new date— with a brand new outfit.
There are several ways to accomplish this. The first is to raid my mother’s closet and as well all know I’ve already done so on numerous occasions.
The second is to accessorize (an old LBD is an old little black dress no longer when you pair it with a bit of Kandinsky. And no, I haven’t figured out just how I’m going to do this—the “pair it” with Kandinsky bit—but I have a third date with Date #4 on Friday and I’m determined to work some safety pin magic).
The third is to document. I bet the director of the now-defunct historic preservation program at Goucher College never thought I’d be putting my archival skills to such good use— if only she could see me now! You think those “Date # such-and-such” photos that I’ve been posting are just for your amusement? Well, they’re not. They’re for your amusement and my sanity. This way, if I ever forget which outfits I’ve already worn, all I need to do is scroll through my digital camera and presto! Problem solved.
It’s almost as good as having a spreadsheet, and although several have suggested I start logging my dates with the help of Microsoft Excel (including, oddly enough, another blogger-cum-serial-dater), I still think a spreadsheet is a bit much. Sticky tabs and photographic documentation, however, are not. At least not yet— we’ll see what happens when the sticky tabs (and the dates they represent) become too many to handle.
In the meantime, I am happy to report that I’ve just returned from a picnic in Rittenhouse Square with Date #5. As per yesterday’s post, I was feeling rather guilty about cancelling my original plans for Tuesday evening but there’s nothing like an evening of homebrewed beer, a bottle of wine and a lovely summer sunset (with an equally lovely man) to make a girl forget all about the consequences of breaking the rules.