Recently I was gob smacked by something a friend told me. When another friend complemented her skirt she said thank you. She quickly – almost in the same breath - followed that with, ”I plan to wear it to every wedding this summer. Don’t tell.”

As with any true-life long love, my personal relationship with fashion and style continues to evolve. Last week I attended a panel discussion on sustainable fashion as a part of Fashion Revolution Calgary event calendar. One question posed that night has stuck with me since: when did we decide fashion should be cheap?

It’s no secret that I’m not into leggings unless one is working out. It’s more than that. Really I’m not into workout wear as a whole when one isn’t working out. It simply does not make sartorial sense to me. That said, like the LuLuLemon bag has advised me before, I’m trying to, “Do one thing a day that scares me,” especially in the interest of personal style.

All right winter, you win. You have broken me. Typically I delay the urge to communicate my distaste for your lingering until after Memorial Day weekend in May. This year no can do. You have crawled deep under my skin.

It has been a tough past few days. Weeks really. Honestly, this $h*t storm started years ago. Earlier this week, I lost my friend and mentor after her nearly ten year combat with a hereditary terminal illness: f*cking cancer.

To celebrate my birthday (Thanks for the push, Mom), I am using less words to express myself. Shocking, I know. Please enjoy this silly chart, a true expression of my business school education, to decipher - once and for all - what you would ideally wear on your birthday.

Ever feel like you need to try something out just to be sure you personally don’t like it? I often do and a lot of the time that something is a style experiment something. Sometimes I wear a garment just to see if I can pull it off. Other times I wear something to rule it out. Other times I set goals to see what I can learn.

When it comes to romantic relationships I’m at a bit of a loss. Since I was a young kid I questioned a lot of the traditions and norms set before me. Especially when it came to heterosexual romance. Sophisticated queries like, “But, like, why?” tumbled from my mouth at an annoying pace. This is the reality of someone who doesn’t get it.

Fashion friends, I’ve done the impossible. After thirty-one long mornings, days, and nights, I can proudly – and gushing with sweet relief – say that I have completed my no-spend January. Cue the extensive, raucous applause.

The past few weeks one thing I can’t seem to shake off is the idea of taste. Good taste, bad taste, the taste in my mouth. I think about the people who are deemed tastemakers and things that are perceived as distasteful. I ask myself questions like, “Who decides the taste? Who and why does one challenge set taste?” And perhaps the most paralyzing and completely self centred thought, “Do I have “good” taste?”

We made it to another holiday season fashion friends. You may have a few things left to cross off your list in the next few days but soon enough, you likely be surrounded by loved ones. ‘Tis the season.

Upfront, I am not pregnant nor have I ever been. This is an attempt at more of a commentary on those near to me. In other words what I have observed over my (short) lifetime from pregnant couples. Should I ever be a parent I’ll have to revisit this and laugh at my naivety.