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I have categorized all of my expensive little containers of make up into piles that match. Cool light, cool dark, warm neutral. This way, I can be assured of my eyes matching my lips. I should do this with my clothing. Olive green Atari Defender shirt with plain blue jeans. White v-necked t shirt with khaki shorts. Burnt orange polo shirt with teal and yellow stripes with uhhh...

This is why it takes me a minimum of ten minutes to pick out clothes to wear out in public. My mother never taught me how to match my clothes, and what I think matches or looks good is invariably met with a blank stare - people must wonder if I never have the chance to do my laundry. On men this is charming, on a 25 year old woman, it is frightening. I see nothing wrong with pairing my favorite shirt with my favorite skirt.

The problem lies in the fact that my favorite shirt is a red white and blue t-shirt that says "Detroit" on the back, and is signed by Chino Moreno on the front - and my favorite skirt is a BeBe crushed velvet cranberry number. I am the person that those closet makeover shows were created for.

I'm just waiting for that Fashion Emergency chick to show up at my door.