I grew up in the way world. My mom is a fashion designer, and my sister is maybe the most glamorous woman alive.I was brought up in a cosmo where Vogue was the Bible, Karl Lagerfeld was Christ and ParisFashion Week was Jerusalem.( I also went to Catholic school and am highly aware of how blasphemous that sentence was, but don’t worry, I said, like, eight Hail Marys after I wrote it .)
My first swimsuit? A blue-and-orange Dolce and Gabbana one-piece that my mama would carefully coordinate with complementary floaties on my arms. The shoes I wore to my first day of kindergarten? White Gucci loafers.
I appreciate manner. I entail, as a business, it’s what paid for my food and my education. How could I not be grateful for it? Furthermore, I respect people who have a real passion for it. I ensure a brand new pair of Louboutins on someone’s feet, and I( first send a image to my sister to confirm that I spotted them correctly, then) admire it like some people can admire a Monet on display at the museum.
ButI dont want to expend two grand for uncomfortable shoes that I am probably definitely going to bust my ankle in when I could expend about $1,800 less for Uggs that make me feel like my feet merely stepped inside of a warm, fuzzy cloud. For me, consolation has always come first.
So when I assured that there was a wearable sleeping bag on the market, I thought to myself, SIGN ME THE F* CK UP.
I hope my mother and sister never even see this article because they will first succumbs and then flip over in their tombs. Yes, thats right. Ive written about getting f* cked up and hooking up with guys, but what I am the most afraid of my family reading is the article where I wear a full-body sleeping bag around township for two days.
But this sleeping bag is chic and could pass as a cool, trendy DVF winter coat. Or at the least, thats what Ill tell my sister or motherif they ever hear about this.
I am also from California, and this is going to be my very first real wintertime, as Ive learned the condescending people from the East Coast like to refer to their wintertimes.( Like, sorry, was my winter fake only because I could walk outside without freezing my tits off ?). I was not excited and was looking for any and every route to make it a more pleasant experience for myself. I got the nice weatherproof down jacket and requisitesnow boots, but I still didnt feel like I would be cozy enough. And coziness is hugely important to me.This sleeping bagwas exactly the cozy factor I was looking for.
So, here we go. If you are not my sister or my mother, please read along, as I expended two dayswearing my sleeping bagin pure, unadulterated bliss.
Obstacle# 1: Getting it on
Well, I couldnt quite wear it to work as immediately as I had hoped. The thing was an XL, and I am 54 and 100 pounds. So it was way too long.There are also holes for the arms, legs and head that you Guess would beeasy to navigate, but they’re tough to figure out without someone’s assistance. I was hoping my roommate would be home to help me with the process but, as is usual for me, I overslept and she was gone by the time I woke up. Disaster.
Also, if were being honest here, I was nervous. I talk big game about being all cool and confident, but the believed to be walking into my office decked out in this giant thing was a little intimidating, especially since I was walking in late. So I decided I would pack it up and bring it along with me and have my co-workers help me set it on.
They helped me get into the wearable sleeping bag, and, like any self-respecting person in this day and age, I lifted the develop and wobbled straight-out to the bathroom for a mirror selfie. I was slowly but surely starting to feel fly.
As I stimulated my style over to the bathroom( a full walking across the office ), my confidence began to grow. One guy stopped me to ask if I was really cold, but other than that, you know what people said? ZIP, ZILCH, NADA! Sure, people were probably talking mad sh* t over the office messagingapp, but who cares !?! I was more comfy than all of those suckers.