Every single day (well, every single day I manage to change out of my running clothes or grungy sweats), I’m asked the same question, “What are you all dressed up for?”
And the answer is usually “absolutely nothing;” As the greatest homebody of them all, I spend most of my days in my home or driving kids to lessons. But I realize my habit of wearing skirts and dresses throws people, swishy fabric around the knees has come to represent luncheons, a visit to the temple, maybe a wedding.
Perhaps because I’m curvy and tall, I’ve never found a pair of pants that fit correctly. I do own a pair of jeans for those occasions when they are absolutely necessary, but wearing them always feels like a sort of penance for every cookie I’ve even looked at in my life.