Work day mornings are never easy. Never.
And choosing something to wear is pretty much my first hurdle. It's the first decision that sees me delay getting out of bed.
And whilst I had to 'downsize' when I took on a flat mate last year and moved out of my bedroom and into a room without built in robes (and I have an amount of clothes that most women would shudder at) I do have a selection of clothes that allow me to rotate my wardrobe and 'mix it up' - a bit.
Mostly I manage to pull something together.
But why is it, that once you finally make the decision, drag yourself out of bed, shower and find yourself standing at the rack of clothes, that the thing you most wanted to wear has lost a button, is in need of an iron*, or one piece of the 'ensemble' is at the bottom of the washing basket?
Which then generally lends itself to more indecision, a few moments of huffing and puffing and the somewhat disheveled look for which I am becoming renowned.
*Actually a rare occurrence as I don't use an iron unless it's absolutely essential. And given that I try not to even buy clothes that require ironing, even more unlikely! But you know what I mean...
Photo taken at The Tate Modern, London, 2011.