Here’s one thing I’ve learned from the narcissistic practice of photographing myself in outfits: sometimes a camera tells you what the mirror won’t. Take, for example, this dress. My mom sent it to me while she was shopping last month because she thought it looked like my style (stripes, below the knee, ruffles…she knows me well). But I tried it on in front of my full length mirror and immediately thought I’d take it back because a) I have an odd obsession for returning things and b) I also thought the dress made me look like I had saddlebags.
But she convinced me to try it on again and maybe photograph it for the blog. So I did. I came home, looked at the photos and, at the risk of sounding even more narcissistic, liked what I saw. The dress wasn’t so bad. And the icing on the cake? My husband, who rarely notices anything I’m wearing unless it stands between him and leaving for dinner, noticed my dress and muttered something (granted it was inaudible and he never actually looked up from the newspaper he was reading), but I can only assume his grunt was an overarching seal of approval for my new frock. Read: it’s a keeper.