Turning Forty-Freakin' One In My Flyin' Birthday Suit!

On Friday, I'm turning forty-freakin' one.  Huh...weird.  I don't really even feel different...I mean, everything is pretty much the same as it was when I was 31.....with the exception of this hair of mine.

In serious need of serum...

And maybe my feet. My feet aren't as cute as they used to be. At least, not to me. I noticed that just today, when I shot the photos for my critically-important  pedicure crisis post.  My second toes (the long one next to the big one) are getting knobby. Huh...gross. And,  I suppose I have to admit that I have reading glasses now too.

But other than that, that's about it.

Anyway, as you are reading this, with or without glasses, I am padding around in Glasgow, preparing to get on a plane to Athens to start our Greek Odyssey...oddity....er....vacation.  This, of course, means that one minute, I will be slogging around in the rapidly-cooling, wet Scottish weather for the better part of a day, get on a plane, and land somewhere where it has been hotter than Georgia asphalt for the past few weeks.  Seriously hot. Like, Africa hot.

What to wear.

I am not a fan of shorts on a plane. Eeew. Nor am I a fan of changing clothes in airports. I like to get in, get out, look cool (enough), and not linger in what at certain times of the year is the building equivalent  of a petri dish.

So for this trip, I have decided that there is no better way to ring-in your forty-freakin' first year than a trip to Greece in a pair of snake-print skinny jeans. Those of you who are regulars will remember them well.

Oversized gray tee; James Perse, snake-print pants; H&M (past season),
chambray shirt; J. Crew, leather sandals; LaRedoute, sterling hoop earrings, my own. Similar ones here. 

For the Scottish portion of the voyage, if its wet and/or cold outside, I will very likely trade-out the sandals for my favourite pair of these, and trade them back for the sandals at the last minute before leaving the car at the air park place.  

Bass Weejuns

So when I get off the plane, the idea is that I can peel off the shirt if I need to cool off, but not look completely undressed.  I'm calling it my Flying Birthday Suit. So really, what we're talking about here,  conceptually anyway.....is this. 

That's right....peel the onion.....peeeel the onion......
photo courtesy yourallergyreliefnow.com


  1. Can't beat a cashmere pashimina when flying!


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