Hmm . . . I will have to do a little research in the archives on this one as I seem to recall wearing the exact same outfit  during the first wardrobe project.  These jeans are relatively new, so I guess it's not the "exact" same outfit.

What we have here is actually an outfit in transition.  In the earlier part of the morning, I had been traipsing around one of Los Angeles' myriad flea markets - hence the Converse.  Later I headed out to work at a certain store so I changed into one of their sweaters under the ubiquitous warm coat.  Sometime between those two events, this picture got snapped and as such it's not really a proper representation of what I wore to either place.

Here is the aforementioned green sweater I was telling you about.  It used to belong to my mother and I had always dated it to the 1980's.  I have since found out that it is actually about a decade older and was bought for her during her college days by my ever stylish great aunt. My mom talks about having a skirt that "went" with it, though my understanding is that it didn't actually have a matching skirt, but rather she had a plaid one that picked up on the green of the sweater.

I don't usually indulge in the whole nail art thing.  Not that I am against it in principle, but more because  I am extremely lazy.  Not even about the painting of the nails per se, but rather the taking off of the old and chipped polish (and I do so dislike the look of old chipped polish).  These nails here are just at the point of unacceptability, but as my outfit for the day was a variation on this one, and as I have said I don't usually go in for this sort of thing, I thought I'd document them.

Some days I don't have anything to say about my clothes.  Today is such a day, they'll just have to speak for themselves.

6am and on my way to work here.  It is very cold in my house these days, so I find myself either "sunbathing" on the back deck (with large sunglasses and a larger brimmed hat pulled down over my face) or bundled up in big coats like this one.
I tracked this stupid coat halfway across Europe.  Saw it first in Barcelona, but at the advise of one of my more jetsetting companions was told to wait til we got to Andorra where I could buy it tax free.  Well, it was either not to be found in Andorra or significantly more expensive (can't remember which - alas how the years do fly), so back in Spain I scoured all the Zaras I could find to no avail.  Ended up buying it back in Belfast at the most expensive price yet, but by that time I considered that the coat must be had at any cost (well not quite any cost, I believe it was around £70 - a small fortune for me).

I hate the cold.  Mr B. laughs at this because LA is nowhere near as cold as NI, but I don't care.  For me, there exists a very narrow band of temperature acceptability.  Be it Belfast or Burbank, cold is cold.  I have been alternating between this sweater and a similar green one (which you will no doubt see posted here soon) all Winter.  It used to belong to my great aunt (who incidentally has just promised me a mother load of clothing she is getting rid of, though at this point I think I have probably already inherited all the good stuff).