turning into my mother?

I decided to give the new black skirt a go yesterday, and wound up late for work because I simply could not locate the top I wanted to wear with it - why do clothes have this tendency to vanish just like that? does my washing machine eat clothes? - and wound up yanking the nearest tank top off the hangar and running out of the house. Later in the day, as I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I realised this is exactly how my mother dresses (with a more modest tank), down to the tucked-in top and flat shoes. She would be pleased. Or she might ask me - as she tends to - why I'm not more adventurous when it comes to fashion.


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