Waging War With My Closet

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Seems like I’m fighting with all of my tops lately. I tossed the bodysuit, am annoyed by my off-the-shoulders (remember this?) and now have yet another grievance for my closet. Flared sleeves. Bell sleeves, call them what you will. I call them a huge mess. Literally. Because I find that they gather little bits of everything¬† they come near: food at dinner, hand soap in the bathroom, even makeup as you’re getting ready. It’s like wearing a gigantic ladle on your wrists.¬† I think they look adorable and are a fun twist on the basic top, but when that bell gets too big? Buyer beware.

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