A Dicey Start to Chic Critique…

So after a (Wednesday) night out with the fam (my cousin’s 21^st birthday – and she was NOT waiting until the weekend to celebrate), a still-slightly-tipsy me woke up with an idea. In my ever-soothing bar-hag voice, I croaked, “ChicCritique.com,” to my bedmate and fiancé, Arthur. Even though it hit me like a ton of brinks (maybe that was the hangover though…?), it wasn’t as completely random as it seems…

On New Year’s Eve, Arthur and I, and some pr/marketing/advertising genius friends of his, decided that my road to career happiness would inevitably be paved with fashion, thereby discounting my long-time goal of being a teacher (the mere mention of which results in, “Have you SEEN what teachers wear?!” from Arthur). I’d been hemming and hawing about my current position as training coordinator for a financial holding company (i.e. I train tellers), and reliving my latest work humiliation, once again surrounding my “unprofessional” attire (more on this later), when Arthur revealed one of my most embarrassing habits:

I remember what I’ve worn for every big and also not so big moment in my life – every first day of school, every dance, and so on…

One of the marketing savants (who happens to moonlight as an advertising/design professor) took it on himself at this point to plot out a timeline for the development of a blog, podcast, and even the inevitable onslaught of advertisers who’d be banging down my door in no time.  My first assignment  was to name my blog, at which point the entire operation DIED.  No name – too many topic ideas – too high of expectations – and I was done…

UNTIL, the other night, that is…I spent my cousin’s party doing what I do – either talking smack about or giving props for everyone’s ensembles (which apparently becomes much more amusing after a couple of drinks)