Miami style

Ok, so the next drawback besides having bad hair, is that I am totally not Maimi style. I mentioned before that I looked so Utah when we went to look for housing. Now, let me make one disclaimer: it is hard to be really fashionable when you're nursing and you have to be dually accessible at a moments notice. Basically, nothing that will wrinkle, nothing too tight, nothing that can't be easily washed, and pretty much, nothing too cute.


So as I was walking around Miami in my t-shirts and capri pants, my Old Navy flip-flops, and my frizzy hair, I was painfully aware that every elevator we were in was all mirrored. And I would see 5'10" me (with the extra baby goosh I would like to shed), next to every petite little 5'2" Latina in her Miami threads. AKA: club wear. As I was trying to find a picture for a little visual aid to accompany this post, I realized there was nothing very modest I could put on here. When they're not decked out to go partying, there's a lot of loose, flowy clothes (you know, stuff to avoid getting yeast infections in in that dang humidity), bright colors, and lots of jeweled sandals. And nice pedicures. (And I am talking about the regular-age half of Miami, not the ones playing Shuffleboard and drinking Ensure. Although that too lends to it's own interesting subject of fashion...)

But even the dudes are fashionable. Like they all look like Enrique Iglesias (and I'm not complaining). At least I could find a somewhat modest male picture to illustrate my point.


And ink. Everybody's got ink. In fact, there were some tatoos so interesting that I wanted to take pictures but was too slow to discretely get out my camera.


So maybe my husband will feel bad for homely looking me and let me step it up a little to Miamify. I mean I could at least feel fashionably large next to all those little Latinas...