Jupping Goodbye to Jup Jup Jup

By unanticipated alchemies of happenstance, I ended up dining with Andrew on the penultimate evening of Jup Jup Jup as we know it - or so the waiter informed us. Monday? Dinner out? With Andrew? On Capitol Hill? Weird, I know. It was one of those times where plans went askew in pleasing fashion and impulse hit at just the correct times. Anyways, apparently Jup Jup Jup, one of my neighborhood favorites, is going under "new management" and it's never clear what that means aside from a complete change of wait staff and most likely, higher prices + crappier food.

It's a shame. What I loved about JJJ was that I could go there, get something fairly simple and straightforward, feel comfortable while eating it, and then stuff whatever leftover apple and avocado I hadn't eaten into the little plastic baggies I occasionally tote around in my purse because I am - after all - a ninety year old woman. Hey at least I don't steal the condiments or silverwear... yet.

Rest in Peace JJJ... you and your shamelessly blaring 80's pop music will be missed. 

Ah well, life goes on... and on... and on. And into abrupt segues:

Most days I manage to roll myself into some increasingly sagging jeans and an oversized men's shirt, but some days I like to think I can elevate this to what is one of a few of my signature aesthetics - I like to call it the walk of shame aesthetic and honestly I am sure it has and if not could be styled into something fairly competent on the runway. Walk of shame isn't meant as a slam on myself. To those unfamiliar with Cosmo/'etc. the WOF generally refers to the morning after a none too well thought out hook up, usually after a night of clubbing or a fancy party - something where dressing up was involved. I think it's probably most commonly coined in a coed college context, since the stagger home is going to attract a lot of attention through the dorm halls. It's not too different from the whole boyfriend/ex-boyfriend/crazy-drunk-stalker-ex-boyfriend jeans idea insofar as it employs the appearance of disordered and traditionally masculine clothing that references a certain narrative regarding the wearer's romantic life. Today, it's a tuxedo shirt over aforementioned sagging jeans, with diamond earrings, mussed hair, and smudged makeup. Technically, a "walk of shame" would most likely be done early in the morning and entirely in formal clothing, but I like to think my shame-inspirations would hand me a bit of a bone and lend me something to wear over my mini-sparkle bustier etc.

It would be better if I were limping around in one stilleto and had more of a racoon eye effect. On the runway, there would definitely be hugely black rings and the models would have that super ratted hair with maybe one really large chandelier earring and nothing on the other side. And the jeans would be pure out and out boyfriend... shorts! Or sweats! Something huge and incongruous and hopefully full of holes.

Speaking of men's clothes, in the clinic some of the supervisors keep formal clothes for quick meetings on hangers near their spaces. I've always liked this combination:

I'm sure I could incorporate it into my runway show!