Sometimes the New Yorker in me really kicks me in the behind leaving a big ol' bruise; a bruise that lasts a few weeks and has a mind of its own, all while fist-pumping the message, "chic, chic chic"! {A technique learned from hazy Saturday afternoons at Bagatelle too many years ago to remember.}
The old New York in me would dress like this daily. A cropped pant with a tailored button-down top. Heels for work, flats for weekend. The new LA in me prefers hot pink mini skirts paired with stone-colored crop tops and sneakers to boot. ;)
But, during these few rare days that the New York bruise lingers on my sore lil' bootay, I feel slightly more polished.
Goes to show that you don't have to have one style. Mix it up a bit! What could possibly go wrong?